when i relocated supergenius headquarters to a quaint townhouse in shakopee, i kind of knew what i was getting into. i knew living with sister #4 would be tough. i knew i’d have to give up my habit of dropping my pants and bra at the door. so far that transition is going well.
but i do have problems with roommate-hood, specifically centered around her cat, murphy. i guess kitten would be a more appropriate description of murph the smurf (as i like to call him). when sister #4 had to put down Simon (Murph’s brother), i made a vow to be more tolerant of ol’ murphy.
i’ve broken this vow about 39 times, and that’s just since i sat down here at the computer. since madison and paco are old cats (10 and 7), things are much easier. we peacefully coexist. it’s the perfect pet/human relationship. when they want affection they demand it. when i want to give affection i give it. they come when called, it’s beautiful.
murph. well murphy doesn’t even know his damn name and he doesn’t seem to repsond too well to ‘stop it motherfucker’ or ‘ohmygod are you a fucking idiot?’ i often forget murphy is a kitten with all those annoying kitten habits that include (but are not limited to): chewing shoelaces when you are trying to tie them, trying to escape out the door when you’re late for work, attacking your feet when you walk by, hair chewing, and randomly using your body as a launching pad in his never-ending battle with things that only he can see.
the worst part of murph the smurf is that he does not understand the rules of sleeping with me. one of my greatest cat owner joys was waking up in the morning to find paco curled up next to my feet, and madison curled up behind my knees. it was just so damn cozy. but murph, murphy has ruined any kind of pet-human sleeping arrangement that paco, madison and i had figured out.
see the smurf doesn’t understand the rule that no cats are allowed above the waist in bed. all cat lounging must occur below the waist or i wake up with horribly swollen and puffy eyes. and the thing about murphy is that he is relentless, no matter how many times i thrown him off the bed, tell him no, or just swear at him, he comes right back up and tries to snuggle into the space between my chin and my shoulder. couple this with the fact that he purrs like a lawnmower in need of a tune-up, and well, the sleeping hasn’t been going so well.
now i have to sleep with my bedroom door shut (which is a little okay, because it frees me to be a bit more expressive while practicing), denying me the true cat-owner joy of waking up with my cats warming my feet. this door shutting has not quite solved the problem, because he still wakes me up at all hours of the night pawing at the door.
but i get my own revenge by waking him up whenever i spot him sleeping.