Oh, no, she's going to talk about her cats. Run!
We have four cats. One is our venerable old lady, who doesn't put up with nonsense from anyone, who sleeps and eats and periodically chases one of the other cats, in between naps.
We have a pair of sisters, who sometimes I think share one brain between them. One of them is a normal cat who likes to curl up in warms places and has an obsession with Chee-tos. (We've never given her a Chee-to, but she may have intercepted at least one that fell to the floor.) She also loves all dairy products, and I have caught her licking a stick of butter, and the lid to the sour cream. The other of the sisters is a total princess who frequently decides she's not eating dinner for no apparent reason, who doesn't like to be held unless she decides to sit in your lap, and who talks a lot. A lot. No idea what she's saying, but she says it with great urgency. She has the intense concentration of a border collie and is just a little bit high-strung.
And then there's Maggie, our 14 pound wrecking ball. She has earned the nickname "Destructo" from my husband because she is systematically peeling all the wallpaper from our bathroom walls. I hate the wallpaper, so I don't much mind that, but she does tend to break or knock over or otherwise demolish things. The vet put her on a diet. She's addicted to eating dry cat food and it makes her so happy that she purrs when she eats. It's very sad to take her food away, but I don't want a diabetic cat, so I do it. She sleeps on my legs at night. If I had to pick a cat I think would eventually need Prozac, it's this one. I think she has OCD.
This morning, the sisters had completely lost their minds, and were running as fast as they could around the den. We have this little tent for them, and it has two tunnels on either end of it. One of them kept racing into the tunnel, through the tent, out the other tunnel, and jumping into this architectural shelf that is by the fireplace. Then she would sit there looking crazy, before jumping down and doing it again. The other one was attempting to chase her. It was kind of hilarious. The old lady, meanwhile, was eating everybody's leftover breakfast. She doesn't participate in that kind of foolishness.
I try to write with all this nonsense going on. It's very distracting. So I usually end up on Twitter when it's crazy here, posting song lyrics or reminding people about my book.
About having four cats: we are not crazy cat people. We figure that there are two cats per person, which doesn't average out too badly. How we happened to wind up with four cats: We originally had two, Travis, the best cat in the world (TM), and the old lady. Travis had congenital heart disease, which we didn't find out about until he was about 13, when he got really sick. We took care of him with aggressive treatment, but he eventually passed away. When he did, our old lady got really lonely, and would cry at night, so we needed to get her a companion. When we went to the shelter, there was a pair of kittens that were adorable and friendly, and we didn't want to break them up. That gets us up to three cats. A year later, a friend told me about this kitten that had gotten into the undercarriage of her brother's trunk somehow, and taken a ride on the highway there. She was looking for a good home for this kitten because she couldn't keep her, and I obviously have "sucker" written all over my forehead, because I couldn't let a kitten that had survived a highway trip stuck in the underside of a truck go to a shelter. Enter cat number four. It all happened quite logically, but now the cats outnumber us, and I'm sure they are plotting something.
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