The logistics of looking after six cats is mind boggling and confusing to say the least.
It is most important to avoid stepping on a sleeping cat. This is not as simple as it may at first seem. When one has reached the age of decrepitude and faulty vision (and faulty everything else), one is forced to start at the door and walk bent double, peering intently at the floor. In our minute abode, much of the floor is carpeted with cats so we also have to take big steps. Thus doubled over one is inclined to connect knee to chin which is most uncomfortable. One also generally ends up bumping the head on the opposite wall. This is all a little unnerving for first time visitors or religious callers.
Each cat has its favourite sleeping spot at night when the floor is cold. Firecracker Cat has to have the fish tank light on all night so she can soak up the warmth through her belly and the tip of her nose. Gentleman Jim needs a sheepskin bed (liberally sprayed with Catnip) atop the 'fridge' where he can keep an eye on the tank of Gerbils. He also needs his nose doctored at regular intervals when he bonks it on the glass sides, trying to pounce on the gerbils who then set up a tattoo of hind footed thumps. Some say this is their danger signal but they told me it's a Gerbolic rude sign.
The infamous ex-feral, Mammakat, sleeps blissfully in the bend of Ron's knee (on her back with her toes curled up) and woe betide him if he dares to move. Jet hides in a dark but cosy corner trying to look like a shadow in case Mad Bad Leroy Black (The Baddest Cat in the Whole Damn Shack) arrives. Fat Toffee sleeps on me, crushing my ribs and leaving me gasping.
At some stage during the night, Mad Bad arrives with a flourish and peace is no more. His first stop is the six food bowls which he licks clean. Next he seeks out his arch enemy, Jet, and there follows a yeowling and howling from both cats and Ron who is loudest of all. Eventually Ron starts throwing pillows and books at Mad Bad and yelling at me crossly,
“Don't let that damn cat pee all over”.
Unfortunately, Mad Bad feels he must mark the territory. I leap out of bed, dodging Ron's missiles and catch the culprit just before he does the unthinkable. He is given a huge plate of treats and lots of cuddles aimed at calming him down.
Just when all is quiet and we are falling asleep, little Firecracker launches herself at Mad Bad. It's her Siamese blood. The two (who love each other) roll happily all over the house and everything that's not tied down comes crashing to the floor.
Every morning, this sleep challenged old couple is greeted by a purring affectionate sextet who charm us yet again and all is forgiven. Until next time.
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