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Sep. 14th, 2005 12:33 amNothing quite puts a spectacular finish on one's shitty day like having a skinny, sharp-clawed cat quite suddenly climbing up one's back.
I swear to God, this cat will be the death of me.
Ever since my mother left the apartment, bound for her final hospital trip in May of last year, this animal has not left me alone for a bloody second. He was extremely attached to her, would basically only leave her side to eat or occasionally have a lie down on me.
Now, he's the grey-furred monkey on my back. Quite literally.
I come from work, he's waiting at the door for me.
I sit at the computer desk, he jumps onto the back of my stolen swivel chair and makes his little-cat cries in my ear until I hold him.
I sit on the floor to watch television, he perches on my shoulder like a parrot.
I eat dinner at the kitchen table, he circles my legs and gets extremely sulky if I don't let him on my lap.
I go into the bathroom, for any reason whatsoever, he jumps up onto the counter and drinks water out of the tap.
I go to bed, he curls himself around my freaking head and does his absolute damndest to get underneath of me.
I love him, I really do. But, he's batshit insane.
He walks up and down the hallway yowling at the top of his bitty lungs, until I call to him. And any time someone comes to the apartment, he climbs all over them in a bid for attention.
Fifteen years old, skinny like some sort of Tim Burton creation, and afflicted with a hyper-thyriod. His favourite person left and never came back, so now he never knows what to do with himself and is thusly extremely clingy, no matter how much special attention I give to him.
This poor animal.
But, if he keeps playing kitty-cat rodeo on my back/arms/legs/head in the wee hours of the night, I am going to bust out the liquid Valium and dope him within an inch of his nine lives.
I swear to God, this cat will be the death of me.
Ever since my mother left the apartment, bound for her final hospital trip in May of last year, this animal has not left me alone for a bloody second. He was extremely attached to her, would basically only leave her side to eat or occasionally have a lie down on me.
Now, he's the grey-furred monkey on my back. Quite literally.
I come from work, he's waiting at the door for me.
I sit at the computer desk, he jumps onto the back of my stolen swivel chair and makes his little-cat cries in my ear until I hold him.
I sit on the floor to watch television, he perches on my shoulder like a parrot.
I eat dinner at the kitchen table, he circles my legs and gets extremely sulky if I don't let him on my lap.
I go into the bathroom, for any reason whatsoever, he jumps up onto the counter and drinks water out of the tap.
I go to bed, he curls himself around my freaking head and does his absolute damndest to get underneath of me.
I love him, I really do. But, he's batshit insane.
He walks up and down the hallway yowling at the top of his bitty lungs, until I call to him. And any time someone comes to the apartment, he climbs all over them in a bid for attention.
Fifteen years old, skinny like some sort of Tim Burton creation, and afflicted with a hyper-thyriod. His favourite person left and never came back, so now he never knows what to do with himself and is thusly extremely clingy, no matter how much special attention I give to him.
This poor animal.
But, if he keeps playing kitty-cat rodeo on my back/arms/legs/head in the wee hours of the night, I am going to bust out the liquid Valium and dope him within an inch of his nine lives.
