catheroominations

But not for health reasons. See for yourself:

Our cats are now allowed to sleep in our room with us. This was something I thought I’d never see, when I married a man allergic to cats. But apparently said cat allergy has disappeared because Matte’s had no red, watery eyes as a result of our new bedmates. The sneezing is all me though. Damn pollen.

Last night, we were kind of wound up, having just been to Felton to see Peter Mulvey strum his guitar, sing songs, and tell his incredible stories. It was late when we finally got to bed, and I wanted to sleep, but I just wasn’t tired yet. Neither were Desmond and Daphne - particularly Desmond, since he’s a mere 5 months old. Bedtime = playtime! YAY! Because this whole “you’re-allowed-in-the-bedroom-now” is still a new experience for both of the kittehs, Daphne still thinks she’s not supposed to be in the room, and acts like we’re going to squirt her with the Scary Water Bottle every time we make eye contact with her. But Desmond, afraid of nothing, is still finding new places to explore and climb, many of which elicit “NO!” and “Get out of there!” and expletives from us.

So there we were, reading our respective bedtime stories (Matte with his Money Magazine, and I with my Women’s Health) when Desmond suddenly decided he wanted to be on the window sill to watch all the muffler-less hoopdies race down our street (as they are wont to do until the wee hours). But the window sill, see…it is rather narrow and does not allow for jumping on. The enterprising kitten that he is, Desmond found something wider he could jump onto and climb over it to reach his ultimate destination. What did he find, you ask? Our completely unsturdy clothes dryer. You know the ones.

We watched as Desmond launched himself from the floor, onto Matte’s cargo shorts that were lying atop the rack. Desmond’s front paws grasped the rod, and he attempted to hoist himself with his superhumancat upper body strength. Oh, he was so determined to get up there! Only, the rack (did I mention it is unstable?) ever so slowly began to fall in an attempt to repel the kitteh. And in sooper…dooper…sloooow…motion…with Desmond clinging to it with all his might, the rack descended to the floor, giving Desmond a surprise lesson in gravity. (Remember folks, it’s the law*.)

Then there was a THUMP! of small kitten hitting ground, and the crash of small wood slats and vinyl rods collapsing onto themselves. Desmond quickly exited the room to escape the Evil Monster Clothing Rack and took refuge around the corner from our bedroom door, eyes wide, tail puffed.

Matte and I were in complete hysterics. I’m sure the neighbors thought we were gettin’ busy, with the headboard pounding the wall from our shakes of laughter. Even now, just writing about it, I giggle.

*Physics joke from Matte.

I’m tired. It’s 11:30 pm and we just got home from a surprise birthday party in San Francisco. We were at a wine bar that was overly packed and overpriced. The food was oversalted. But it was for a surprise 40th birthday party so we (really I) took the high road. It was fun, I just wish it wasn’t on a weeknight. I don’t do well with the going out on weeknights. Now we’re home and I am in sweats and a Flickr t-shirt, watching LOST. Also, I must post today, to make my NaBloPoMo deadline. Do you see how dedicated I am?

Before I go, I have to tell you a Desmond story. Yes. It’s about my cat. Kitten, actually.

Every morning, while I’m in the shower, Desmond sits outside the curtain on the bathmat, meowing. Today though, I didn’t hear him, so I peeked out from the shower to see if he was there. He wasn’t on the bathmat, but he was walking out of the bathroom, carrying my chonies in his mouth, as if he had just caught his prey for the morning.

After my shower, I found him in the living room flinging and flailing my underwear about, and generally attacking my Victoria’s Secret boyshorts. Well, I just had to grab a photo of this! So I took the hunted underwear, put it back in the bathroom and sat with my camera in my lap as I waited for the fierce predator to return. The little perv returned and absconded with my undies again. See the little perv?

Got a better caption? Leave it in the comments.

Well, not quite friends yet, but the transition of Desmond into our 1- cat diva household is going better than we would have expected.