How My Morning Started

Last night at bedtime:

It was late, and I was tired. Mike and I had just gotten back from Christmas shopping and we were exhausted. All I wanted to do was go to bed. I knew that as soon as my head hit the pillow, I'd be asleep.

Problem #1: As I was getting the dogs out for their last potty of the day, Tim comes stomping down the stairs yelling about something. Boy, was he mad! Turns out the cat had pooped all over his blankets and sheets.

Lovely.

As I'm getting his bedding changed, along comes problem #2.

Mike went into our bedroom to get ready for bed. All of a sudden I hear him cursing from the next room. I walk in to find him stripping OUR bed. The cat had peed right in the middle of it.

At this point, I wanted to cry. I managed to get both beds changed and crawled into bed.

But, guess what?

I was no longer tired. After stripping and remaking two beds, I was wide awake.  I laid there listening to Mike snore for quite some time before sleep finally took me.

This morning:

Because of the fiasco last night, I decided that the cat is no longer allowed in our bedroom. He usually sleeps on our bed during the day, but that privilege is revoked. So, after getting out of bed this morning, I closed our bedroom door. I could hear the cat pawing at the door and meowing from downstairs and I thought, "Too bad, Kitty-cat. You unmade our bed, now you can't lie in it."

Unfortunately, one of our dogs sleeps in a kennel in our bedroom, and I had to go up there to get him out to go outside this morning. I pushed the cat away from the door and went inside to get the dog, closing the door behind me. I got the dog, whose name is Tony by the way, and opened the door to go out. The cat was ready. He shot into the room like a rocket!

Remember, I have Tony in one arm, so I tried grabbing my twenty pound cat with the other. All I managed to do was squash him to the floor. As the cat struggled to free himself, I lost my balance. Down I went. In an effort to not kill Tony or the cat by falling on them, I opted to dive away from them, hurting my knee and my face in the process. The cat got away and hid under the bed, just out of my reach, and poor Tony cowered in the corner afraid to come to me.

I took Tony out after coaxing him out of the corner with an animal cracker, and limped back upstairs with a broom to flush the cat out from under the bed. He looked at me with hatred in his eyes and hissed a couple of times, but I got him out. I threw him out into the hall.

As I type this, he is sitting outside our bedroom door, pawing and meowing again.

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