Another Darn Cat Post

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the things you learn

Just moved into a better, more open, bigger place. Like most apartments there is a coat closet in the entry. The front door opens into the apartment, the screen/security door opens outward, the coat closet opens out into the entry at a right angle to the front door.

My cat likes to pry open cabinets and closets to investigate the insides.

The coat closet doesn’t have a proper doorknob/latch.

I sure hope my neighbors were at Easter service and didn’t hear me swearing at my cat while I tried to figure out how she blocked me out of my own apartment.

ETA: last night she opened every cabinet at knee level and hurked orange half digested cat food in three spots (that I found). I wish she would just tell me she doesn’t like moving and get it done.

The shape of things to come this weekend

Me: QUIT LICKING THINGS!

Cat: licklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklicklick

Me: drives over to petsit puppies for friend

Puppies: barkyaplickbarklicklickbark peeeeeeeeeeeee barkbarkbarkbark

Me: ARG! I want to go camping now. Without things that lick!

The cat has progressed to licking everything within a two inch radius of her – my pants, her butt, a chair leg, whatever. The Pomeranian pups are sort of like bedroom slippers with springy legs for racing about and little teeth for nibbling. They might stay still for a two second petting session in between trying to get back at the orange tabby for being bigger than they are, and racing around like rabbits on speed.

I must taste great. The cat keeps licking, and licking, and licking. At night I have to pull the covers up high and keep my hands under. She licks my arms, hands, fingers….

Thank goodness she’s not a lion or something. Thank goodness my facial cream appears to alter the flavor of my face.

I hate moving.

The boxes, and the stuff, and the dust. And the cat, because mommy’s packing again god help us now I must run around like an idiot and knock things over and bash into walls.

When I collapse in front of the tv for a break she jumps on my stomach and wriggles and flumps and purrs and digs her toes in until she finds just the right position, which looks like every position she just tried, whatever…. and then I have to dislodge her to go pee because she just poked my bladder eighty times in a row. Rinse, repeat. Clingy idiot. I guess she thinks I’m going to leave her behind? Like I ever did that, however tempted I might be.

I am barely getting started and already I have visions of backing the Uhaul up to a cliff and shoving everything out. BLEAH. Anyone want a metric ton of books?

ze catbloggen

helping make the bedI help u make bed

Grab the camera! Don’t show the world I helped make the bed!oh no! no pictures of me helpin!

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