The Cats and My Desk
I've never been one of those people whose first instinct is to snap a pic when the weirdness is happening. I don't really know why I don't do it. Probably has something to do with weirdness being an almost every day occurrence for me. Of course, that's usually tied hand in hand with me being too shocked stupid to respond from said weirdness.And that goes hand in hand with the training I received at a young age on the importance of a good sense of humor.
My sense of humor--warped as it is--got its start in my pre-teen years. La, those were some tough times and, seriously folks, I would have gone insane had I (and my family) not learned to laugh at the little things which make normal people wanna tear their hair out. Actually I was talking about this very topic with my mother the other day. The reason for the topic happened to be this very scene that I walked into my office to find.
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Really? Seriously? I was only gone for 5 minutes! How in the world could you two cats get that comfortable in MY CHAIR and on MY DESK and---hey, wait where did my file go? I was working on a manuscript! <grumble, grumble, complain, complain>
You're probably thinking this scene is pretty normal--especially if you're a person who resides in a household owned by a cat. Or two. So this sort of scene would fall into a normal everyday occurrence. And normally I would agree with you, but this time... and after I spent a week of rerunning this same routine... it's no longer normal and has moved to the realm of being a real pain in the ass. Literally.
So you see the cat in the chair? That's Little Bit--which is short for Little Bitch. The name fits. Totally fits. So the first three times I walked in on this scene, I was able to get Ella (The Cat Group Tech Specialist who has a taste for plastic... as in electrical cords and ear bud cords...I see a bright frazzled future for her in the near... um, future).. so where was I? Oh yeah, I got Ella off the desk and my computer. No problem. She was lured by a swift toss of a rumpled up post it note--hey, she is a writer's cat, after all. Now for Little Bit in the chair... for three days, the only way to get her to move was to sit on her. Or rather to almost sit on her. Do that and she'd get irritated, hiss at me, then mosey on over to some other plush spot to claim as her own.
For three days that worked. Three whole days!!! The fourth day... not so much. This time when I walked into the office and saw her there, I pulled back the chair and started to sit and... damn if that cat didn't just roll over on her back and extend all her claws at my posterior.
Seriously??!!! You had to go there, Little Bit?!!! Let go of my butt, you durn cat! For crying out loud it's a yoga pants day and I'm not your personal scratching post and... ow, you obnoxious overbearing... let go!
Finally she let go. Granted it took longer than 30 seconds to get her to retract her claws from my posterior... but she let go. And yeah, now, I can laugh about it. Mostly because I learned my lesson.
Never try and sit on Little Bit when wearing yoga pants. Jeans provide much better protection.
My sense of humor--warped as it is--got its start in my pre-teen years. La, those were some tough times and, seriously folks, I would have gone insane had I (and my family) not learned to laugh at the little things which make normal people wanna tear their hair out. Actually I was talking about this very topic with my mother the other day. The reason for the topic happened to be this very scene that I walked into my office to find.
.JPG)
You're probably thinking this scene is pretty normal--especially if you're a person who resides in a household owned by a cat. Or two. So this sort of scene would fall into a normal everyday occurrence. And normally I would agree with you, but this time... and after I spent a week of rerunning this same routine... it's no longer normal and has moved to the realm of being a real pain in the ass. Literally.
So you see the cat in the chair? That's Little Bit--which is short for Little Bitch. The name fits. Totally fits. So the first three times I walked in on this scene, I was able to get Ella (The Cat Group Tech Specialist who has a taste for plastic... as in electrical cords and ear bud cords...I see a bright frazzled future for her in the near... um, future).. so where was I? Oh yeah, I got Ella off the desk and my computer. No problem. She was lured by a swift toss of a rumpled up post it note--hey, she is a writer's cat, after all. Now for Little Bit in the chair... for three days, the only way to get her to move was to sit on her. Or rather to almost sit on her. Do that and she'd get irritated, hiss at me, then mosey on over to some other plush spot to claim as her own.
For three days that worked. Three whole days!!! The fourth day... not so much. This time when I walked into the office and saw her there, I pulled back the chair and started to sit and... damn if that cat didn't just roll over on her back and extend all her claws at my posterior.
Seriously??!!! You had to go there, Little Bit?!!! Let go of my butt, you durn cat! For crying out loud it's a yoga pants day and I'm not your personal scratching post and... ow, you obnoxious overbearing... let go!
Finally she let go. Granted it took longer than 30 seconds to get her to retract her claws from my posterior... but she let go. And yeah, now, I can laugh about it. Mostly because I learned my lesson.
Never try and sit on Little Bit when wearing yoga pants. Jeans provide much better protection.
