I’ve been counting down the days until I get settled into my own place near where I work so I can either legally or illegally smuggle my own fat furry couch-ornament in to cuddle with. However, somehow I think I confused cats as just an easier version of a dog. This is not so.
I am housesitting for my aunt right now and she has two cats. My aunt joked before she left, “You’ll be lucky if you even see the little darlings!” and I laughed thinking that no animal–let alone two–could live in a house like they are ninjas of the night. Well, these two do. I should have figured as much when I was never told their names and I am staying here for two weeks. I was just shown the five litter boxes they have (literally) set up in the basement and told I won’t have to change them, feed them ,water them, etc. So, basically I watch free cable and blog while they lurk creepily around every corner.
I literally only saw the tip of one’s tail as I sat in the recliner and it was either under it or scared by it and it vanished through the kitty door (sick) in the basement faster than my retinas could focus.
However, I could live with this. Big deal, they don’t bound to the door when I come home. That sometimes gets annoying. They don’t slober on my legs and leave strings of saliva that make me gag just to describe.
But this was the cincher…
I fell asleep last night in a blaze of glory…literally unconscious. Now, I don’t know if this happens to anyone else but do you ever get where you’re asleep and you know you’re asleep and you want to move so badly but you are, literally, paralyzed? I heard that this happens to everyone but I might be the only one enlightened enough to have had a self-discovery.
So, as I was sleeping like I was in the tub scene of What Lies Beneath, this bobcat sized animal leaps on my chest and slinks toward my face. Instantly, panic seized my body but there was the paralysis. So, I could sit and force myself to remember that, yes, there was food in the basement and no he wasn’t licking his lips while he looked at my jugular.
He sensed my vulnerability but let me live.