The title of this post refers to Hedwig, though one might think I was talking about Samantha. Before I get off on the wrong rant, though, let me update you on Hedwig.
In the above picture, she is resting on a tray on top of the refrigerator. It is slightly distasteful, but at the same time, she isn't sticking to one of us. Because these days, Hedwig resembles nothing so much as a piece of velcro, and Mick is her fabric of choice. He can't stand it.
He sits down. She is right there. He throws her down. She is right back. And I think I've already told you that she has a meow that sounds like a cranky drunk who's been chain-smoking and drinking whiskey.
On the bright side, for me that is, she has stopped sleeping with us. I greatly appreciate this. It took being mean, meaner than I thought I could be. It was all due to the fleas. In the past, when I would toss her from our bed and she would creep back to settle down on one of my body parts, I would eventually give up or she would sneak better. Then she got fleas and there was no way I was going to tolerate her in the bed, scratching. She tried, though, and it was scratch, scratch, scratch, and then I would scratch, scratch, scratch, and then...she tried to lie down by my head and that was it. I launched her.
No, I didn't hurt her. I didn't abuse her. I only launched her about 2 and a half feet. But I let her know I didn't want her sleeping in our bed. Not with the scratch, scratch, scratch going on. No way I could tolerate that.
So Hedwig decided that she would sleep on top of the satellite receiver in the living room. Ocassionally she sleeps behind the tv itself. That was fine. I guess. Far more fur flying around than I would like, but it's better than having her sleeping on me in our bed.
Then she got me back.
Our cats are pukers. Always have been and now I'm afraid that they always will be. We've tried every cat food under the sun, starting with the most expensive ones first. Nothing worked. Every formula: sensitive stomach, hair ball control, indoor cat...Iams, Science Diet...piles of cat puke every morning.
Then it stopped. I was afraid to say anything for fear of jinxing us, but then I made a comment to Mick, "This new Friskies Indoor Cat Formula seems to have done the trick. I'd given up. I don't know if you noticed, but they've been puking a lot less." "Yes," Mick replied, "I have noticed".
And that is when I jinxed us. I should have kept my mouth shut. Then maybe the cats would have kept theirs shut, too. Payback from Hedwig was when she knocked over my favorite picture of Miranda that was propped up on the satellite receiver and then, you guessed it, she puked on it. The contents of her stomach ran under the glass on the frame and ate away the bottom portion of the picture. My favorite picture of Miranda, taken in the 5th grade.
Hedwig didn't stop there. Oh, no, because I shampooed the living room carpet a couple of weeks ago and now every morning I get to clean up a pile of cat puke right in the walk way. Every morning, a fresh nasty stain. Time to shampoo again.
Whenever we get visitors who like cats, they all comment on how cute Hedwig is and how they'd like to take her home with them.
And Mick and I reply, "Yes, we'd like you to take her home, too."
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