We didn't go to bed last night until about 1AM and I doubt I was asleep until 2. This morning, starting around 6:30, Alfie started crying at the bedroom door (and I mean crying) It's as if the little bastard knows he's annoying me and if he hits the right pitch and volume, I'm bound to get up and give him a cuddle.
At 8:30, I gave up on trying to get back to sleep and got up and dressed. When I opened the door, Alfie and Luka were both sitting outside the door waiting as they always are. Can I point out that they are cats not dogs! Cats are supposed to be independent animals that snub you until they want to be loved not behaving as if they are thinking - all I want is for you to be there for me to love and entertain me 24 hours a day or I'll scream at your fucking door until you do what I want!
I came downstairs and they both scrambled by me on the way down like always (as if my death would be more entertaining than anything, so why not send me flying). I sat on the couch to say hello and give them their much sort after cuddles, but they weren't interested. Sure they purred and got their hugs, but 30 seconds in - they were done - The little bastards.
I came over and turned on the computer, sat down and started my morning routine; which is to really wander around aimlessly until I wake up enough to have some real direction (this is what happens when you give up coffee after 20 years of starting your morning with it).
Someone posted a new blog for my list, so I popped over to it to see what was happening in their side of the world. As I sat here minding my own business - Alfie and Luka chased each other like little maniacs both doing random things to get my attention. I sometimes think they have a competition to see who will be the one to make me lose it.
Alfie chased Luka not passed me, but over me. Luka chased Alfie over every bit of furniture in the room. Alfie knocked a very large paining off the wall (which is usually what sends me over the edge, but not this time) I tried to re-hang it, but it fell more than twice so I threw it in the closet for Wayne to take care of later. Then it was Luka's turn. Before he did it, I swear he winked at his brother. He took a flying leap onto the desk next to me (that was piled in an organized mess of random papers notebooks, and software) and promptly fell to the floor taking everything that was there with him. I finally lost it and made some sound that sent them both running and cleaned up the mess.
The most infuriating thing is that now, they seem satisfied. Luka is lounging on the cat climbing thing we have in here and Alfie is on the couch. They both appear to be normal cats now that they drove me over the edge. They know that until tomorrow, the fun is over - the little fuckers.
I stand corrected - Alfie is eating a candle on the sideboard and Luka has decided to try and try to climb the curtains. They have plotted against me. Here we go again. Why is it I love them like I do?
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