I love my pets dearly. And I mean, I love them more than life. We’re pretty lucky- Bailey is an incredibly well behaved dog. Zoe is an absolute angel. And Rascal, well he’s a riot. BUT, is seems as though over the past few weeks our Rascal has been doing whatever is needed to live up to his name. Fun right? No. Not at all.
Now that we’re living in a house, I was worried about the cats trying to get outside. We had a little experiment to see what they would do if they were to get outside. Turns out Zoe is so disgusted by the outdoors that she took one sniff, and turned right around and went back inside. Rascal on the other hand seems to like going out onto the porch and rolling around on the concrete. I’m assuming it was the scratchy goodness that caused the worm like movement. Whatever floats your boat I suppose!
Since that initial experiment, Rascal has graduated from staying on the front porch to running around the front yard. To clarify- they are NOT outdoor cats. They are not allowed outside. So, as you can imagine my stress level goes way up when I see that little orange butt sneaking out from underneath my feet and running outside. It’s become a part of our daily morning freak out. Scott and I are rushing out the door, completely unaware of the fuzzy orange face hiding behind the front door waiting for his great escape. Just shoot me now.
Now that we’re living in a house, I was worried about the cats trying to get outside. We had a little experiment to see what they would do if they were to get outside. Turns out Zoe is so disgusted by the outdoors that she took one sniff, and turned right around and went back inside. Rascal on the other hand seems to like going out onto the porch and rolling around on the concrete. I’m assuming it was the scratchy goodness that caused the worm like movement. Whatever floats your boat I suppose!
Since that initial experiment, Rascal has graduated from staying on the front porch to running around the front yard. To clarify- they are NOT outdoor cats. They are not allowed outside. So, as you can imagine my stress level goes way up when I see that little orange butt sneaking out from underneath my feet and running outside. It’s become a part of our daily morning freak out. Scott and I are rushing out the door, completely unaware of the fuzzy orange face hiding behind the front door waiting for his great escape. Just shoot me now.
In addition to his morning break out, Rascal has picked up a BAD habit that I had foolishly thought was broken months ago. For some reason, he runs around the house SCREAMING at the top of his lungs. It’s like this. MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW. No breaths in between. I don’t know how he gets oxygen. This morning, he had me up at 1:30 AM freaking out. He meows for food, I lie in bed cursing his name trying to ignore his vocal abilities, and after an hour of wanting to pull my hair out get up and feed him.
5:00 AM. Meowing again. Excessive meowing. Now I’m thinking about how I might lock him up in a sound proof room. Except I don’t have a sound proof room. Damnit!
6:00 AM. Now Scott is yelling at Rascal, and I’m pretty sure Rascal is yelling back.
6:00 AM. Now Scott is yelling at Rascal, and I’m pretty sure Rascal is yelling back.
6:30 AM. The meowing is closer to me now. I open my eyes, and Rascal is sitting there staring at me. It’s scary, and I debate waking Scott up.
7:00 AM. The only time where Rascal opts to be quiet, which means I get some sleep. But wait, aren’t I supposed to get up at 7:00 AM?
8:00 AM- Leave house, have to park at work because cat is insane and is trying to kill me. Death by meow. That’s a real thing, right?
7:00 AM. The only time where Rascal opts to be quiet, which means I get some sleep. But wait, aren’t I supposed to get up at 7:00 AM?
8:00 AM- Leave house, have to park at work because cat is insane and is trying to kill me. Death by meow. That’s a real thing, right?
This funny little schedule has been going on every morning for the past week. Needless to say, I am at my wit ends. I could always spray him with water, but he loves the sink and to get his fur all soaked so I am doubtful in the success rate for that route. I could give him up. JOKES. Clearly not a choice. I think I’m left with the Thundershift for CATS. That’s right! For cats! I’d like to thank Google for bringing me to the Thundershirts for cats webpage, and the Thundershirt company for being so super duper and offering some slice of sanity during my night time sleeping. Woot woot for sanity!
