LuLu the pup, my ninety-pound Newfoundland, woke me up at 4:30 from a dead sleep. I was like, dog, get off my face so I can keep sleeping… not to mention breathing.
I shoved her off of me and was about to go back to sleep when I heard the wail of a dying animal. Oh no, I thought, Mr. Kitty!
Nope, not Mr. Kitty. Rather, it was his latest prey, a poor little mouse that didn’t make it. I was horrified. I have a dead animal phobia, for one thing. I quickly put an inverted Victorian-era candy dish over the dead thing, but Mr. Kitty kept shoving the candy dish, trying to reach the mouse. It was my fault for falling asleep last night with no expectation that life would become nightmarish. [Eyeroll.]
I scanned the room and located one of my shadow boxes that I built as a desktop bookshelf. Here’s a photo of one with books in it:
It’s heavier than you might think, being made from two solid layers of plywood. I put it over the candy dish on its side and then went back to bed. Not surprisingly, nightmares followed, but I awoke at 10:00 or 11:00 with no difficulty.
My little bookcase is still on the floor, where it shall remain until I can get my dad to come up here and dispose of… it. And I’ll let you all guess what Mr. Kitty’s doing right now. Bad kitty. But it’s too heavy. He won’t make a dent in trying to move the little bookcase.
I appreciate that LuLu the pup woke me up. It was the right thing to do.
Usually we have this issue with Mr. Kitty in August, but July’s close enough. One year, oh my goodness. [Rolling my eyes.] I was in the throes of romantic heartbreak over a guy who was just horrible. All wrong for me, as usual. So I was at my computer listening to “The Devil” by Tears for Fears and sobbing, and I was starved, too, having forgotten or neglected to eat. Mr. Kitty came to my rescue with a fresh mouse, which was thoughtful, since I was so hungry.
I shrieked like a maniac, repeatedly, and was unable to calm down. Mr. Kitty ran for it. The mouse escaped to safety. My dad showed up and was concerned. After I managed to explain the situation, my dad said, “Yeah, I saw something in his mouth. I thought it was a toy.”
And I said, “No. It’s never good when something is in Mr. Kitty’s mouth. It’s never ever ever a good sign. LuLu the pup has toys. Mr. Kitty has prey.” [Edited to clarify that LuLu wasn’t our dog then, but I can’t remember which dog we had at the time.]
So I guess it’s that time of year for dead things to be in my bedroom. [Makes face.] Mr. Kitty’s been shooting me these looks all morning like, you still love me, right? I’m the kitty. You gotta love me.