Meet Starla and Buster. Oh, sure. They look sweet. But, as I lay here in the dark and warm cocoon of my bed covers I’m listening to them tear into the small trashcan next to my favorite chair in the living room. Of course, they know they’re not supposed to be in it. If I go out there they’ll both run to hide under the couch.
It’s something different every night. Last night I listened to them chase each other across my kitchen counters. I never go out into the house to confirm the source of the racket because I’m certain no intruder would ever be so outrageously LOUD and rambunctious. At this point I’ve turned the noise of their ruckus into a guessing game. I listen as they crash into something or some object crashes to the floor and without going to see what it was, I guess. So, far I’m batting 100.
Every morning I wake and rise to discover knocked over vases, plants, books, dishes, or nick-knacks. Nothing in my home is safe. Nothing is ever placed so high that they can’t reach. I’ve tried. But they either climb or jump to attack whatever has their attention. Sometimes, things just happen to be in the way when they’re chasing each other. If I want to save anything from the hell-bent destruction of my precious furry babies, I have to keep it in a box out in the garage. With the door locked because I swear if they had opposable thumbs and knew how to unlock doors – they’d take out everything I value.
Once they get bored with what they’re doing they jump on my bed and sniff my eyebrows. If I leave them outside my room with the door closed, they claw up the carpet outside the door. Or meow. Or both. I can’t win.
It’s 5:11 a.m. and I know they want to be fed, but that isn’t about to happen. Neither, unfortunately, am I going to be able to fall back to sleep. Who, besides news anchors and paper delivery guys, gets up at such a godawful hour? Okay, maybe bakers get up this early, but that’s it. Okay, and military personnel. And medical professionals. But that’s it. No one else gets up so early. Okay, maybe new parents with infants.
But not me. Not on purpose.