Damn Cat!

My cat is out to get me.

I have a cat named Chivas (like the Scotch whisky). He was named in honor of one of my best friend’s Dad who passed away around the time Chivas was born. Chivas Regal was my friends Dad’s drink of choice. So it just fit well. In any case, I’ve had him for a little more than three years now. I love the little guy to death, but sometimes he drives me out of my mind and I swear that he’s out to get me. There are a few incidents that really stick in my mind. One incident just happened the other day which inspired this blog.

Let me tell you briefly about the first two. Only because they are funny and hopefully you’ll enjoy my frustration. First it’s the way the S.O.B. drinks his water. Unlike the traditional way of simply lapping it up with his tongue, he’d rather lick the water from his paw. Yes, he dips his paw in the water and then drinks it from there. And then other times he will just simply slam his paw into the water causing water to go all over my kitchen floor. OK, so you’re probably saying to yourself, “John calm down it’s not that big of a deal.” Well, let me paint you a picture, and I ask that you picture this happening to me. You wake up in the morning tired because you didn’t get enough sleep. Your eyes are still not completely all the way open, and you make your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But before you get to the refrigerator, you unknowingly step in a puddle of water and slide across the kitchen floor and into the refrigerator. And how did that puddle get there? you might ask. Yep, it’s the water that is left over from when Chivas decided to turn the kitchen into a slip and slide.

The second time that he got me pretty good was when I was making my way to the bathroom. Now in my old apartment I lived on the third floor. Well, I was on my way home from work when the eight glasses of water I had during the day caught up to me. You know what I’m talking about — the ride home that takes five minutes but feels like 20. And then you have the three flights to run up. Well anyway, I finally get home, struggle to get the key in the door and rush quickly to the bathroom. Chivas had other plans for me. It was almost as if he had been planning it all day. As I’m running by the couch, Chivas jumps out from behind it and literally takes out my feet. Needless to say, I fell into the wall and onto the floor, still having to use the bathroom more than ever. Mark up another win for Chivas.

This brings me to the incident that happened only a couple days ago. It’s another morning story in which I got about two hours of sleep the night before. I come out of the bathroom, and I see Chivas on my kitchen counter. Now I like to keep a clean place, and there is in no way this is going to fly. In fact he’s never tried it before. So there’s me throwing my hands in the air asking him what the hell he’s doing. And he knows he’s doing something wrong because he IMMEDIATELY jumps off. I go back into the bathroom to brush my teeth, and when I come back out, he’s back on the counter. Again I yell, and again he is super quick to get off. But this time is different. This time he jumps onto the bar stool, pushing it over and right into my shin. Yep, the bastard got me again.

Like I said, I love the little guy, but he drives me nuts sometimes and even causes physical pain when he sees the need. I’ll keep you posted on any future attacks. Hopefully he’ll spare me for a little while.