Don’t let this face fool you.
This cat is an asshole. She derives some sort of feline pleasure from occasionally tormenting our dog Petra … she will threaten her by not allowing her to pass by or walk through a door or she will latch on to the back of Petra’s neck or nip her ears. It’s not something I condone or allow, but I don’t always catch it before it happens. When it does happen … everyone, but everyone, knows. Because Petra screams at the top of her little Chihuahua lungs just as if someone were trying to murder her. Now you might say, of course she does! I would too! But the thing is, Shaylee doesn’t always actually make contact, and when she does, it’s not as horrific as it sounds. Shaylee’s intent is not to hurt so much as to amuse herself. Remember, I did say she was an asshole.
The key thing here to remember is, Shaylee doesn’t always make contact. Sometimes she just gives Petra the ol’ cat stink-eye. However, if she’s stalking Petra and Petra knows it, Petra will scream … figuring the best offense is a good defense, I guess. Scare ‘em off with crazy.
This sibling intimidation hasn’t happened in a while and I can only assume that rather than the fulfillment of my hope for a peaceful, harmonious familial unit, it was instead simply because Shaylee was a little rattled after the move to the condo we now call home. (I will digress here a moment just to mention that unlike the noise dampening construction you might expect in privately owned condos, ours is more like your standard apartment building … we’re all well aware of what everyone else is doing at any point in time.)
At any rate, round about midnight last night, I’m pretty sure the neighbors think I killed my dog.
Welcome to the neighborhood.
Some days, like today, this look – this cuteness factor – is her only saving grace.
I have to give the Ne’er-do-well credit, she is gorgeous. Especially her eyes. Maybe she’s born with it … maybe it’s Meowbelline.
Okay, so that one was bad, even for me.
The sneeze heard round the world. One can’t be bothered to even look up from her nap. And the other takes it as a personal affront. Sheesh.
Someone is making damn sure she’s not left behind in our big move this weekend.
It’s Mother’s Day and my son’s birthday today. Since I’ve already told my mother how I feel about her (don’t roll your eyes, it was nice … thoughtful even) and revealing how old my son is makes me old, I’m just going to talk about my cat. I mean, look at this cat. Normally Shaylee is the Queen of Refinement, the epitome of poise and grace. And here she is, right when the realization struck that she had rolled herself just an inch too close to the edge of the bed necessitating a very unladylike maneuver to keep her from meeting the floor a tad harder than she would’ve liked. Laughing at moments like these are just one more reason I’m going to meet a fiery end.
So, I got up in the middle of the night – or early morning, however you want to look at it, and went into the kitchen for a drink and a snack. Trying to keep from waking the entire household, which can result in a cacophony of barks from less than astute guard dogs, I kept the lights out and just meandered through to the fridge. I think
my cat the ne’er-do-well is trying to kill me. Poised like a demon in the dark, she just sat quietly and no doubt had a good laugh when, after finally seeing her and those glowing eyes staring at me like some otherworldly creature, I dropped my glass of milk … which subsequently shattered on the floor with a resounding crash and splattered pretty much the entire kitchen. Who was it that said “no use crying over spilled milk?” I’d like to wring that person’s neck, because cleaning up spilled milk at 2:30 a.m. to a canine concerto all because of a demon cat with a wicked sense of humor is definitely a curse-word laden undertaking, if not exactly tear-filled.
I lightened the picture up so you could see her better, but imagine seeing this out of the corner of your eye in the dark!