I know the Woman's morning routine, in what order she should do things, and I make sure she gets them done. When she finally gets her asterisk out of bed I lead her to the giant litterbox room, march her to her special litterbox, then while she does her business I jump up next to the sink and stare at the box on the wall where she stores her drugs.
After she dopes up, I get down and lead her into the kitchen so that she remembers to get a drink, because she has issues with drink things, and she needs to have something first thing. After that, my job is done; I munch a little dry food, and then go take a nap.
Now, half the week, things are turned a little upside down because the Man stays out all night passing gas, and when he comes home he feeds us. When he stays home at night, it's a crap shoot about who will get up and open cans. Buddah has gotten really good at getting the Man up at Open A Can time, but sometimes we get the Woman up. She stumbles out, opens a can, and stumbles back to bed. I know that when that happens, I don't need to lead her to her drugs, because it's not time for them.
But this morning it was like it just occurred to her how much I really do. She figured out a long time ago that I make sure she gets things done in the right order, but it just now occurred to her that my job begins before she's even awake. This morning was one of the mornings the Man feeds us; after he did that and fed himself he went to bed, and then I waited the right amount of time before pushing the bedroom door open before jumping up on the bed to wake her up.
When I meowed she rolled over, sighed, and guessed the time. Like I was supposed to be impressed that she knew that without looking at the clock. But then she looked at me and said, "You're pretty good at coming in here within the same ten minute time frame every morning, Big Guy."
Looking down at her lazy asterisk...
As she sat up she added, "Hell, even if I get up to feed you, you still come back at the right time to get me up."
While I waited on the counter near her drugs, she kept yammering on. "Okay, so how do you know when to not wake me up? Because you do that, if I'm sick you let me sleep. How do you know?"
You stink when you're sick, that's how.
"And how did you figure out that when I do get up to feed you that I'm going right back to bed and not taking my meds, hmm?"
Because you're lazy and predictable, that's how.
"I'm not sure what I would do without you, furball."
Probably forget to pee.
You'd think that with all the work I do to make sure she does what she's supposed to when she's supposed to, I'd get a pay raise or at least get to spend my own money, but no. All I get is a skrtich on the top of my head.
Seriously blog blocked. And today is no different; I woke up this morning and had nothing of importance to talk about, but then I went on Facebook and my heart broke.
I really, really like this picture of him...I stole it from his Facebook page.
Some of you guys know Wendell; he used to blog, but the last couple of years he was mostly on Facebook, where he routinely made me snort crap out my nose laughing at the things he posted. He was freaking funny and could out-snark me on even his bad days.
He's had a very hard time of it lately, not feeling well, fighting hard against Teh Diuhbeeteez, and not always winning. The fight got to be 159 kinds of hard and he was feeling miserable and sad, so his mom Carli took him to the stabby place and let him go. She's been fighting hard for him, too, but it was time.
Doods, you have no idea how hard that was for her. Wendell was THAT special. It was just so hard, even though it was exactly what he needed.
If I was going through what he did, it's what I would want for me, too. Now, I believe in the Bridge and all the wonderful things there for me, but Wendell wasn't so sure, and I think that's okay. We're cats; we love a good nap, and if that's what we get, it'll be one glorious nap. But my heart tells me I'll get to see Wendell on the flipside, and when I go, doods, I am going to high five him because he was just that awesome.
Wendell, my man....BRUCE lol...I'm gonna miss you. A lot. You da man, my friend. You da man...
And I even got a new tree thingy that sits by the Woman's desk so I can dictate my thinks to her, and a ginormous new littler box! The steak was from the People, but I think the other stuff came out of my paycheck. And that's okay, because I needed some new stuff.
But man...that steak just made it feel like my birthday!!!
I dread it because of the noise at night; not because I'm afraid of all the booming--I'm really not, never have been--but Buddah usually is. During his first July 4th he ran and hid under the bed and I felt like I needed to go hang out nearby where he could see me, just so he wouldn't feel so terrified.
Every year since then the sound of firecrackers going off has freaked him out, and he looks for someplace to wait it out. I check on him, but mostly I just let him know nothing bad is going to happen, then I back off. Hovering was okay when he was a kitten, but since then, I figured he needed to see me walk away like it was no big deal, so that he would understand that it really is no big deal.
Doods, tonight when all the noise started, he didn't run. He's not happy, but he's not hiding. He's sitting here on top of his tall scratching post, and he looks annoyed, but he's out here.
It only took 8 years.
I have to admit, I'm a little bit proud of him, and the crunchy treats we got as a reward for bravery only have a little to do with that.
The People went out this evening after a day of watching stuff on DVDs because it was too hot to go out before then; it wasn't Doctor Who-worthy stuff, but it was okay and I watched from the Woman's lap for a while.
When they came back, they had steak for me. The Woman cut it into bite sized pieces, heated it up for 5 seconds in the I'm-too-damned-lazy-to-cook-for-reals box so that it was the perfect temperature for nomming upon, and then Buddah and I got big servings of it.
I didn't know we were doing my birthday. I haven't felt like celebrating it, but after getting all that real live fresh dead cow I was in a pretty good mood, so the Woman gave me my presents.
It's what I always wanted.
I GOT MY OWN MINIONS!
Man, we are gonna take over the world.
Well, after we see what's going on in the kitchen. I think there might also be some real live fresh dead shrimp in there with my name on it.