The Cat(s)

Sometimes I feel like I am living in the cats' house and not the other way around.  Maybe it's the way that the cats lie in the center of the hallway and then try to scratch the hell out of my leg if I step over them.  Pardon me for using your hallway.

Have you ever woken up to a cat breathing in your face?  With the look that says, "If you don't get out of that bed and feed me, I will claw your eyes out."  If it was my house, the cat would say good morning first.

In the house that I live in, if you leave a cup on the table and walk out of the room the cat will jump onto the table, investigate the cup, and then methodically push it until it falls to the floor.  As a solution to this problem, I tried setting my glass on the floor.  All that seemed to do was give the cat the impression that I was offering it to him.

Maybe sometimes I feel like I'm living in the cats' house and not the other way around because they don't care. They don't care if I'm comfortable.  They don't care if I get fed.  They don't care if I poop on the floor (I don't).   The cats only care about the cats and they will allow me to serve them and make them comfortable.

Things are going to be changing around here.