After spending all day boil washing (who, OCD, me?!) and "super washing" my bed sheets after last nights accident (not mine!!!), I had it all made and fresh (ah I love a freshly made bed), with bed mats underneath the other side in the general area that people seem to pee and puke in.
I came upstairs to find a child in bed who promptly jumped up awake sobbing that she couldn't find Freddy (Freddy the teddy...she's more imaginative than me. I had a cuddly brown dog who I called Brown Dog). Personally I wasn't about to walk into the boys Room From Hell to see if her brothers had it as I wouldn't make it in there without severe Lego foot damage.
So after promising to source another Freddy to replace the Freddy that wasn't even hers (but possession is 9/10ths of the law and she'd stolen it off her brother two years ago, he went with her everywhere), and tucking her in with London Bear (a bear we got in London. I told you, imaginative...), I pulled back my bed ready to get into.
When I came back from the bathroom there was a cat in my little triangle of bed. All curled up cosily like a little prawn. But not just any cat. Princess the Bengal Cross rescue. With an attitude from hell. I am physically scarred just from attempting to stroke her as she walked past. She communicates in hisses and yowling and likes to beat the living shit out of anything that walks past. Her collar came off 10 days ago. I'm too scared to put it back on, although I did try for a good 5 days.
I turned around to get changed for bed, and when I went to get back in bed she was bloody right in the same spot the stubborn little git! So I had to go all through the rigmarole again just so I didn't end up dying on the floor of a jugular vein ripped open by a mental cat! She sat across the bed and hissed at me as if to say I was the shittiest bit of shit that she could ever have the misfortune to stand on and that she would quite simply not piss on me if I was on fire.
As I got comfy, under the evil glare of Princess (oh the bloody irony, a sweet, girly princess hah!), I realised I'd left my meds in my med bag on my cupboard and hopped out of bed to get them.
As I went to get back into bed, you've guessed it, she was laid in the same bloody spot all curled up asleep, like I hadn't hopped out for only 10 seconds! This time she would take none of my sweet talking and just hissed and spat at me as I came near. So I had to take my courage and go in for a quick poke of the behind to which she jumped approximately 3 feet in the air yowling and hissing and smacked me one on my offending pokey finger before going over to perch on my daughters head, glaring at me.
Some of you may know I have some disabilities and health problems. I use a metal bed prop to allow me to sleep upright at night (back and lung op, nearly died, very boring!) and she is currently behind it. She's right behind where I am sitting up in bed.
I'm a bit scared to go to sleep. Did you ever see that film where cats come and steal your breath and kill you?! She could be lying there behind me just waiting! What if I fall asleep and flail my arms around, she'll attack them and I'll end up with accidentally slashed wrists!!
She is one scary psycho cat. No wonder her owner was getting rid of her! Gets on with cats she says (she tries to gouge their eyes out every time they look at her), gets on with dogs too she says (yeah, cos the dog is bloody petrified of her!), gets on with kids she says! Well she IS slightly better with the kids, it's as if she knows she can't do too much to them or I'll be, well, deeply unhappy!! Although Mental is sporting a scratch from stroking her for apparently 2 seconds longer than she required!
I do feel sorry for her, she's obviously been passed from pillar to post and is just misunderstood. Or maybe really premenstrual? Or she could just be a mardarse!? But I'm way too scared to get rid of her so I'll let her stay I guess.....I've worked out she likes cheese so we are living on a mutually beneficial bartering system. Otherwise known as blackmail...I give her the cheese and no one gets hurt and I will be allowed 3 strokes. Anymore have to be bought with cheese and salmon treats and even then there is a strict limit before she takes herself off upstairs to bed. My bed.
One day I'm just going to come to bed and just actually get into it without dealing with any disasters! Or psycho cats! Maybe.
Right I must go, I'm erm just popping downstairs to check up on our cheese rations...