A Monster in the Bathroom!

There was a monster in my bathroom this morning. It was growling, snarling,  wearing blood, and dripping with drool, but that is the end of this story, let me start at the beginning—

 Activity begins in our home well before dawn . My husband jumps out of bed, eager to meet the day and slaps the alarm clock without giving it a chance to ring. He greets me with a cheerful “Good Morning!”

Having at the most five hours of sleep at this unhealthy hour, I grunt a barely audible “Sure”, then roll over and cover my head before this enthusiastic early riser decides to give me a cheerful, good morning kiss.

Remember to close that lousy door,” I groan as I review in my mind that morning consists of sunlight and songbird serenades, not barely penetrable darkness and the haunting cries of a screech owl.

If it is truly a good morning, my husband remembers to close the bedroom door and our cats Grendel and Kitsten stand outside in the hall squalling and screaming, in an effort to attract the attention of the nearest animal control officer so they can plead their case of cruelty and neglect. I cover my head with the pillow, and slip into a disturbed sleep, filled with dark, savage dreams of being torn to bits by the monsters just outside my bedroom door. But at least I managed to get back to sleep.

A bad morning starts with an open bedroom door.

Just as conscious thought began to falter and the world about me began to fade, Kitsten stealthy crept into the room. She carefully placed her mousie on the floor by the bed, hopped onto the television stand and from there lunged onto my hip, where with the purr of a Harley Davison she began her morning constitution. Five or ten minutes later, Grendel, the queen of the house, realized that someone was awake and came tearing up the stairs to demand her morning devotion and to remind her human subject that the food dish was empty. Jumping on my shoulder, she began clawing at the blanket expecting me to grant her admittance to my dark and once peaceful world. I strove in vain to ignore her, but when those urgent, borrowing claws began to draw blood, I reluctantly lifted the covers to permit this excessive drooler to share the warmth of my blankets.

Unfortunately, breathing recirculated cat breath in the wee hours before dawn became so unappealing that I threw back the blankets choking for air. It was then that Pudge, “The Big Guy” bounced onto my side, forcing the breath from my lungs and waking the queen. Pudge will share a box, a laundry basket, or a spot in the sun with Grendel, but he refuses to share his people! He hissed. She growled quietly to remind him of his place. He growled. She rose to her feet to confront him. He hissed again. She threatened to rearrange his face. Kitsten came forward just to see what the commotion was about. Pudge swatted Kitsten’s nose to remind the kid that he found her curiosity annoying. Inches from my face, a slapping match ensued. Grendel now bored with this petty squabbling shook her head violently, whipping drool in every direction. With her subjects occupied, the queen settled back down to sleep.  I, on the other hand, was wide awake. I carefully nudged the fighting cats to the floor, and headed to the bathroom.

Yes, there was a monster in my bathroom this morning. It was growling, snarling,  wearing blood, and dripping with drool. That monster was me, and if you will forgive this monster, she is going to feed the cats, close that door, and go back to bed. (Now where did I put those earplugs?)

Sue

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8 Comments

Filed under Pets, Sue's Corner

8 responses to “A Monster in the Bathroom!

  1. Love it! In my house it’s two cats and a golden retriever whose head hits my chest with a thud to wake me!! I think there is a monster in my bathroom too… and the monster is I…

  2. My cats think that morning for them should mean morning for everyone.

    Sue

  3. My cats think that morning starts at 4 a.m. I think you are fairly lucky!

    • I would really be a monster if they woke me at four, but I have a short memory when it comes to my cats. They climb onto my shoulder, snuggle against my cheek, and know that all will be forgiven.

  4. I am allergic to cats, so have a dog that does much the same thing. She is especially rotten on those rare occasions when I get to sleep in. It’s all about her getting her breakfast and my sleeping in can wait. She wins every time.

    • My dog passed away several years ago at the ripe old age of eighteen. When she woke me before daylight, I knew to jump out of bed and pull on my jeans and slippers, because when you’re over one hundred (in dog years) when you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go! The two of us would then crawl back into bed and sleep until the cats decided to get us up.

  5. AH! This could have been written about our house and critters: “our cats Grendel and Kitsten stand outside in the hall squalling and screaming, in an effort to attract the attention of the nearest animal control officer so they can plead their case of cruelty and neglect.” Rolling with laughter over that.
    Actually did just pull the covers up this morning…with a cat heavily sitting annoyed on top of me.
    Fun post

    • I refuse to be manipulated by a mere animal! Now if you will pardon me, Grendel is howling. I had better hurry upstairs to see what she wants — maybe I should take a bowl of milk and a mousie just in case.

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