the life of zooey who happens to be Bipolar 2
I wish we had ‘normal’ cats. I must recognized cats are NOT normal, really. Yet, I long for the cute kitties who bop their humans on the nose, meow and stare in their faces or sit on their heads to wake them up. You see, our cats have developed a version of Catrobatics. Yep, floor exercises commence every Caturday morning on our bed about an hour past breakfast. They want breakfast, and they want it nowz!
Catrobatics come in several flavors: chest, stomach and bladder. Each set of jumps from two 8 lb felines and one 15 lb cat are done in coordination over hubby and myself. One jump on me, one on hubby, off the bed. No time to retaliate, just time to grunt or yell ‘op!’ You’d think their pounces wouldn’t hurt that bad. Can someone calculate the 2 foot fall with each size cat? Full bladder says it’s at least 50 jumping pounds of pure pain.
They do give us warning signs, a saddle up the side and gentle climb around the head, only occasionally stepping on hair as they walk around our heads. When will we learn? Probably never.
P.S. For those who are interested enough to read down to the bottom of my ramblings, I am back to not sleeping much at night. This has culminated into a zombie tiredness all day today. I fight off the black dog by doing errand things and writing irrelevant things in this blog. It helps a little. Wish I could sick 3 jumping cats after that fucking black dog. To cheer up those struggling today as I am…one of my favorite cat videos of all time.