Last night when I got home from work Carl the kitty did what he always does, he parked his butt in the hall right next to the bathroom and meowed, quietly. He has a very quiet meow. I ignored the meow, not on purpose, but because I was taking off my jacket and putting my purse down and his meowing is so faint that it’s like background noise. He meowwwwed a little louder as I chatted some more with The Husband and made my way toward the couch and computer. He MEOWWWWWWWED even louder and scratched on the wall a little, desperate for my attention, but at this point I had been sucked into a facebook vortex and was consciously ignoring his pleas. Bad parent, I know. So, Carl did what any self-respecting cat would do and marched his furry self over to the coffee table right in front of the couch, stared me in the face and said loudly and clearly MEEEE FUCKING YOWWWWW BITCH. He likes to drink fresh water out of the faucet, and he likes to do it now. So I petted him and cooed and went to the bathroom to turn the faucet on. Soon after, Lenny started his evening routine of wandering around the house meowing. His meow is harder to ignore, it’s louder and deeper. MEEEYOWLLLLL. He does it every day at the same time – just wanders around the house meeeyoooooooWWWWWWlllling. Up on the counters – myowlll. On top of the dryer and onto the window ledge to MEEEEEEyoooooowl at the passing cars, on and on he goes. So I stopped what I was doing to pick him up and sling him over my shoulder. He just hangs out there, purrrrrrrring contentedly as I bounce around, singing and petting him. He loves it. It’s what he meeyowls for. And I always give in. I can’t help it, I’m a sucker for my schminkies, my wittums, my bunnies. Lenny who likes to eat plastic and barf it up on the floor, Carl who enjoys sleeping on my pillow with his tail on my head. Lenny and Carl, the loves of my life.
This morning I did what I always do, got up at ridiculous o’clock and sat down at the kitchen table to write. When I finished and turned around, my schminkies were both sitting in the hall, nonchalantly, just hanging out. Which is weird, because normally when I’m writing at least one of them is sitting on my notebook trying to gnaw on my pen and the other is either loudly chomping on kibble or shoveling around in the shit box. Yet there they were, just staring at me, eerily silent, not moving. And then, I saw it. Blink blink – huh? No. NO IT COULD NOT BE. But it was. Mousey Mouse! Just sitting there in the hall, between the two mischievous kitties. They just sat there, Carl with his furred brow, Lenny with his bug eyes, both just staring at me as if to say hey look – see that there? do you see what we did? I have looked for that thing high and low, back and forth, under and over and in between and there was no sign, anywhere! I had officially given him up as missing, assumed dead, and there he sat, mocking me. They found him. Which of course means that they probably hid him. Those cats are totally fucking with me.