As the boy was at his father’s, when I was writing instead of him I had the cat trying to distract me.

The Cat, is technically not mine, however, she tortures me the most.

I guess she knows I understand cat so she feels like she owns me.

It doesn’t work out well for either of us.

She jumps *and I shudder* onto my bathroom counter and steals my things or moves them to the floor or other areas of the house.

She finds ways to carry my things, and sometimes the boy’s, down a flight of stairs and into a whole other part of the house.

My pony tail holders are found in her food dish.

She thinks she can get me to come to the dark side and be her slave.

She is wrong.

Yes, I will love and cuddle on her, yes I will give her treats, but I won’t let her sleep in my bed all night! She has a human to sleep with.

Plus when she does sleep with me, she sleeps on me. It’s bad enough when the boy is in the bed as he has to be touching me. She doesn’t just touch, oh no, she isn’t satisfied unless she is on me. My head, my back, my stomach, she isn’t that picky. I wake up hot and feeling a heavy pressure on me somewhat freaking out.

Usually I feel the weight lift as I rise up and her complaining noise of being moved.

Seems like I don’t care at that point nor does she get to stay in my room.

Although she does follow me around and on occasion she fetches and that is cheap entertainment! She really just enjoys being in my space which is usually somehow touching me.

I’ve always had animals in my life and since the passing of my beloved Big Love, she decided that she needs to be my dog/cat.

I am so lucky. HA!

Maybe she will not torture me tonight and scratch at my door when I shut it.

Maybe unicorns and rainbows will fly out of my butt too!

Keep Hope Alive for a fabulous day!