I have no idea what has gotten into the cats of late, but they have been, collectively, total assholes. As usual, when they sleep, they're not so bad. It's those 3 hours of awake time that are making them difficult.
Mind you, I type this with a cat draped over my arm and sitting on my keyboard tray. I keep moving her and she keeps coming back. I tried using the flea comb on her as a deterrent . . . she stayed. I tried spraying her . . . she went away, but came back. Every time I try to move my mouse, she digs her claws into my hand.
Digging in claws seems to be a theme lately. The boy cat has lodged a claw into my leg at least five times in the last two days. Earlier this week, he sunk all ten front claws into my foot when he missed a jump. Clumsy bastard. He's also been sleeping on one of my tables and knocking everything off of it. I'm still missing a couple of things that have fallen into the Dark Zone under my chair.
Last night my roommate was woken up by one of the cats knocking everything off of the kitchen counters, including the water bowl of Alice. And no, it wasn't Alice doing these things. We know this for a fact because when Alice falls asleep, she power sleeps for hours on end. Everything that cat does is deeply serious. Serious sleep. Serious eating. Serious sips of water.
As for the other three indoor kots and koshkas, there seems to be some bizarre contest to see who can erupt with the most bodily functions in inappropriate places. When they're not hairballing, they're flicking fleas on us, meowing at the top of their lungs, or licking plastic. Seriously, little bastards, stop!
Oh and lovely. The one on my hand just decided my typing was disturbing her and jumped down, taking my keyboard with her . . .
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