Sometimes, It Sucks to Be the Cat

>> Thursday, April 15, 2010

In my last post, I waxed philosophical about cats and their sense of entitlement, and where they are is where everyone should stand to admire them.

Sometimes, though, this sense of entitlement can get a cat in trouble.  Take Houdini, for example.  His sense of entitlement (or perhaps his general cluelessness), sometimes overrides any sense of self-preservation.  If we can say, without laughing, that a cat has "no filter," then Houdini is the cat.

If Girl Cat is trying to get some loving from Darling Husband, Houdini sees absolutely no problem with jumping up to try to get some pets of his own, even though every time he tries, Girl Cat rewards him with a swift swipe or a really mean glare that will become a swipe if he doesn't back away ... slowly ... without any sudden moves.  If Houdini is thirsty, he sees no problem with jumping into the nearest shower or bathtub to see if there is any water left behind rather than going downstairs to get constantly refreshing kitty water from the electric bowl.  The fact that water may come crashing down on his head from the shower head means nothing to Houdini ... no matter how many times it happens to surprise him.

Sneaking into sleep on Toddler's bed is much the same entitlement/cluelessness adventure for Houdini.  He continues to do it, knowing that many of the consequences are not good, but in the end, no one can save a cat from himself.  The other day I chased Houdini from Toddler's bed.  Then, some time later, I took Toddler up for a nap.  With little fuss, Toddler climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, and laid down.  I went downstairs to enjoy a precious few moments of quiet and a little late lunch.

Now, when Toddler goes to his room, I'm used to hearing him talk to himself a lot, talk to his toys, sing songs, and sometimes jump out of bed to play with toys.  Today, though, I heard something strange.  I hear a lot of "thump" "thump" and other strange sounds.  For the most part, he can't hurt anything in his room, and very little can hurt him, so I decided to let it go for a little while to see if he (or the strange noises) settled down at all.

After a few fruitless minutes of waiting, I finally decided to go up and see "what the heck was going on."  Of course, I wasn't really sure I wanted to know, because finding out probably meant I had to clean it up, and I wasn't really interested in cleaning anything up

I walked upstairs, opened the door, and out shot Houdini like his life depended on it.  He made a mad dash for my room and disappeared for at least an hour.  Toddler, in the meantime, was standing in the middle of his room, laughing and squealing.  He ran to the door, and I quickly saw that his shirt was covered from collar to waist in Houdini fur.

Perhaps my imagination is not even sufficient to consider what must have been going on behind that closed door.  Houdini puts up with a lot from Toddler, and Houdini is not a quiet cat, either.  Nonetheless, Iheard no peep from either of them and only saw a lot of giggling, a lot of fur, and a blurry streak that I am fairly sure was my cat.

I wish I could say that Houdini was smart enough to never allow himself to be locked in Toddler's room again.  Sadly, I have "rescued" Houdini from just this predicament more than once, and I am certain I will do so again.

Sometimes, thinking you are entitled to be someplace doesn't mean that you should be.  #Justsayin


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