I don’t think I had even one good hour of sleep last night. Between Mother’s Day carb-loading at lunch yesterday, no workout, an afternoon nap, too much caffeine, and a late bedtime, the deck was stacked against me from the start. Oh, wait – I think I forgot the main reason I didn’t sleep well last night.
That would be the cat-hanging-from-the-doorknob routine.
For several weeks now, the cats have taken to meowing pathetically and pawing at my bedroom door in the morning when they think it’s time for me to get up. I may have written about this before. Strangely, their idea of when I should get up doesn’t generally match my own. For a while I would race out of bed and downstairs to give them breakfast, thinking they were hungry, but half the time I’d get down there and they’d have plenty of food. They were just bored and wanted attention.
Eventually, I got to the point where I could tune out the meowing and pawing, and so I’d just get out of bed when I was good and damn ready.
The cats changed strategies, and began the body-slamming method of waking me up. As you might guess, that consisted of getting a good running start and then smashing directly into the bedroom door. Fifteen times in a row. That didn’t last long, so it probably hurt their little heads or something.
Abby continues to test the pawing method, and now she does it when I’m in the bathroom with the door closed as well.
Marco has upgraded to the hanging-from-the-doorknob method.
Marco might look like a big lug, but he’s not a dumb cat. He has evidently figured out that the doorknob has something to do with opening the bedroom door, and since Marco wants to be where I am at all times, he really wants to get that bedroom door open. For the last several nights, he’s been jumping up and grabbing the doorknob, over and over again, sometimes for an hour or more. From inside the room, I can see the doorknob moving, and I hear him swing for a second, then scrabble against the door as he falls off. Then he’ll jump again. He’s heavy, so this is all a very loud process, and no amount of ignoring/yelling/Penny Pig shaking will deter him. And he cries the whole time.
I’m kind of at a loss. I really don’t function well on such a shitty excuse for sleep, but I don’t know what I can do to make him stop. I’m fairly sure it’s a separation anxiety thing, as he seriously sticks very close to me whenever I’m home, and I don’t necessarily want to reward it but on the other hand, maybe I should just let them sleep in my room again. Maybe they’re old enough now that they won’t walk on my face and headbutt me and crawl under the covers and bite my ass the way they used to when they were kittens.
Oh, I am so very very tired today.