Bad Pussy: When Good Kitties Go Bad

This is Sterling our recently adopted kitten and she’s all cute and furry now, curled up and snuggly like she’s just a four-legged angel. She’s sleeping really darn good too. I don’t get to sleep this good, not anymore since apparently she has decided she’s a night dweller and that I’m her enormous two legged play-thing.

Don’t get me wrong, being a lesbian I usually don’t mind being the all night plaything for some young ‘kitty’. Who am I kidding, I live for it! But this hyper butch is into the rough stuff and I’m not enjoying this at all.

Let’s take last night for example. First, she taunts; she waits until I’m just falling asleep to come calling, attempting to purr and charm and use all of her tiny feline charm on me.

Meow, meow. Meow, meow.

I’m asleep. I don’t blink. I know how this works, if she sees my eyes or catches me moving the hunt is on and it’s playtime.

Meow, meow. Meow, meow.

I’m asleep. I don’t blink.

But, CRAP!! I forgot to mention I’m not alone in this battle (although it does seem that way at times…like these). Sam, my
partner, who happens to sleep like a coma patient every night, rolls over with a monosyllabic grunt and that’s all it takes.

The little monster jumps up landing square on my chest, takes one of my dreadlocks in her teeth and tries to run with it. Though I’m sure she just wants to play, this is attached to me and I’d like to keep it that way, so I grab her (pulling my own hair in the process) and toss her out of the bed, not realizing that she has strategically placed a miniature trampoline down there somewhere while I dozed, because she literally POPS back at me, 4 wicked sets of claws fully extended! I catch her in mid-air strictly by reflex and go to grab the water spray bottle that I keep by the bed for such occasions, but the sight of it makes her simultaneously, shriek, swat, contort and leap from my grasp, a hostile, white flash bolting from sight.

Good gracious. I look over at Sam who is of course completely oblivious to any disturbance and I tell myself bitterly that at least one of us will be rested in the morning. I lay down, nod off to the unbroken sound of Sam’s snoring and I start to fall back into a semi-sleep when I feel oddly like I’m being watched.

I won’t open my eyes, I won’t open my eyes, I won’t open my eyes…….

Wet sandpaper rubs my nose. She’s licking me.

I won’t open my eyes, I won’t open my eyes, I won’t open my eyes…….

Wet sandpaper rubs my cheek. A furry ear goes up my nose. Aw, crap! I sneeze. She jumps back, then immediately springs forward and grabs another dreadlock, but this time she takes off as soon as I make to sit up. I am not amused. I spot the li’l deviant running out of the bedroom so I close the door behind her forcefully (I think in my sleep deprived huff I might have even muttered the words, “And stay out!”). Big mistake.

Less than 5 minutes later, the silence is broken by pitiful “why hath thou forsaken me” crying and clawing on the other side of the door.

Oh mommy, meow, sniffle, meow! I just wanted your love, meow, whimper…..meow….sniff-

HA! DOUBLE HA! I lay in my bed with a stern smirk on my face and an ongoing rant in my head. “Ooh noooo, I am not that easy anymore, you little Siamese con artist. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks because of similar nights of mind games and torture. cRY, go ahead, you got me before with that but I can tune you out now, crying will just fade into the soundtrack of my dreams in about 10 minutes.” I pulled the blanket up and-

Click, click, click…THWOMP!!

Click, click, click…THWOMP!!

Sickening, disturbing, and horrifying. I have the Forrest Gump of kittens. Sterling was actually taking running starts and hurling her furry body up against the door. I am dumbfounded!

As much as I want to see how long it would take before she gives herself a itty, bitty, kitty concussion (for posterity, people…c’mon), I angrily reach over and open the door. Unfortunately she’s mid-hurl at the time so she just kind of flies into the room looking like a flying squirrel. She must have scared the squirrel droppings out of herself because she immediately turns and high-tails it out of the room. I go back to bed again.

Sam has yet to stop snoring or even move again. This time I contemplate how many ways there must be to kill someone in their sleep when they sleep through anything. That the kitten was a gift from Sam makes some of these concepts seem a bit too appealing in my present state of mind. I roll over, deliberately snatching all of the covers off the soundly, snoozing traitor, and attempt to sleep again.

This time I actually manage to fall into some relatively good REMing sleep. Pleasant colorful dreams are working their magic on me when something in the waking world pulls me from my nocturnal reprieve. GGGRRRRRR!!!! I’m not even sure what is waking me up, a sound, a feeling, a movement……?

My eyes pop open. I automatically know that demonic cat has done something. I lie still…..I don’t hear or feel her in or near the bed. I carefully open my eyes….. no bad cat to be seen. Maybe I’m safe, but I don’t trust it. Ooh, maybe it’s the paranoia or adrenaline, but now I have to pee.

On my way down the hall, I almost think I see the slightest flash of white flying out of the kitchen.

Hhhmmmm… something tells me…….

I walk into the kitchen, turn on the light, and instantly wish I’d gone to the bathroom first because I think I pee’d my panties a little.

In the kitchen, every single cabinet door was sitting wide open and I think I’ve been transported into “The Sixth Sense”. It is just too creepy. Apparently Sterling wanted a midnight snack couldn’t decide what to have.

…Or she sees dead people. From deep in the darkness of the living room two glowing orbs silently peer at me.

When did going to sleep become like jungle war games?

I’ll tell you one thing, she’s about to be somebody’s Kung Pao chicken special if I don’t get some sleep.

AND I’M A CAT PERSON!