Tag Archives: random

Kitty ears warp space and time

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iDJ never spent a lot of time with cats until I descended upon him from Americay with a Bengal. I also brought a big dog, and a big snake. But this is about cats.

I, on the other hand, have been around cats my whole life. My mom had a Siamese before she had kids. We picked up other cats over the years from family, friends, and the streets, but there was always a Meezer. I do a damn fine impression of a pissed-off cat, and I can read their body language as if they were talking. As Socks would say, I speak Cat.

One day, shortly after we were all settled in, iDJ turned to me and asked, “What’s that noise?”

“I didn’t hear anything. What did it sound like?”

“I don’t know. Kind of a flapping noise, maybe?”

As the sound wasn’t repeated, we forgot about it until a few days later.

“There it is again! What is that?”

“I got no clue, hon, I didn’t hear a thing.”

A few more days pass, and we are settled on the couch watching TV. Spot (the cat) gets up from my lap, stretches, and shakes himself.

iDJ jumps, startled. “That’s it! That’s the noise! Spotty made that noise!”

I stare at him blankly, then it hits me and I fall over laughing: cat ears. Cat ears make a very distinctive flappity-flappity noise when a cat shakes his head. I’d gotten so used to it, I didn’t even hear it anymore.

Of course, now that I do hear it again (sometimes) I always try to mimic the sound, so’s my man knows I heard it. That, and I really like doing sound effects. I sound like a 5-year-old boy playing with toy airplanes when I swoop anything through the air, because I cannot do any swooping without making a ‘swoosh’ noise.

A few days ago, iDJ walks into the room and tells me this: “Cats’ ears cause a rift in the space-time continuum whenever they shake their heads,” and he walks out.

Perhaps he had beer on board; in fact I’m sure of it, but I’m blaming this entirely on the fact that we are working our way though the Star Trek: the Next Generation box set.

How the hell old am I, again?

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I’ve not been sleeping that well lately, and it seems just about everything and anything will wake me up: the wind, my bad back, the sound of a Bad Cat chewing up a dog’s toy downstairs.

This isn’t normal for me. It might take some time for me to fall asleep in bed, but once I’m out, I’m out. Thunderstorms, garbage trucks, insane neighbours shouting right outside my house at 3 am – I sleep through all of these things. I never wake up when iDJ comes to bed after me. I probably have conversations with him, but I am not awake.

(I have a lifetime history of talking in my sleep. When my sis and I shared a bedroom I got out of bed and lay down on the floor one night. She asked me what was wrong. I told her that the sums were bothering me. She asked what ‘sums’ were. I told her that a sum is the sound a unicorn makes. She told me to go back to bed, and I did. Of course, this is all hearsay, I don’t remember this. But now you know what sound a unicorn makes. Apparently they like math.)

I’m particularly annoyed because Bad Cat has started eating the new Carrot dog toy. The toy honks, but he’s not honking it at 5am. Just eating it. I have no idea how I can hear that in my sleep from upstairs, but I can.

(Either of my boys can be Bad Cat. In this case, it’s the Siamese. He eats fabric and dog kibble, the other one eats plants and plastic. Sigh.)

One night I tried sleeping in the spare room, because the bedroom windows were making funny noises (probably noises quite similar to a cat eating a dog toy that is as big as he is), and iDJ was still up and on my couch.

I tossed and turned for hours, and finally was well and truly asleep – for a bit. I woke up, and it was quiet, and warm, and comfortable – until I turned over and extreme pain shot through my face.

I had a massive zit on my cheek. It was talking to me, in an Irish accent. Let me illustrate:

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It hurt enough to wake me all the way up and keep me awake, thinking. Thinking things like, ‘I’m bloody 40, when is this shit going to stop!?!? Why am I having more skin issues now than I did as a teenager? What the hell is wrong with me? Skin is too dry to not use face cream, but too zitty to allow me use it without a break out… aauggh!’

Ok, I confess. This entire post was thought of right there and then, at 5:30 in the morning, with very little sleep, and it turns out to be nothing but a long-winded excuse to draw a picture. I never, ever, said that the things I think about at ‘oh-dark-thirty’ are logical, or funny. I got nuthin, here.

But look! I drew a picture of a zit on my face saying ‘how’rya!’