Glenwood's normal nighttime antics, I realize, are more challenging than her merely being in heat and wailing and barking all night. After all, she left me alone and was less interested in food than other things.
Now that she's out of heat, we're back to the routine, and it feels even more disruptive. She starts trashing my desk and dresser top at about 4.00 am so I'll serve her wet food, then she makes that the start of her day, which includes exercise, snacks, and play. I sleep in ten-minute increments the rest of the night, punctuated by Get down!, curses, and trips to the kitchen to dole out the four bites of food she eats at a time. Timmy will eat the rest if I give her more, and he's supposed to be on a weight-reduction plan. When I finally drag myself up for good, she jumps onto the bed and goes to sleep.
Thursday night I took a stand and locked her and Timmy out. All night I could hear things being relocated and endless meowing. Below is my bathroom sink as I found it in the morning. Note that some of these items she pulled out of the medicine cabinet, though she was careful to close it when she was done.
My next experiment is no more wet food. If cats forget everything in three weeks, they'll forget that too. Just for kicks, I put a little water on the dry food. It fooled them. They snorted it.
No comments:
Post a Comment