Mundane and pointless, so I guess it goes here. I’m sure cat-owners can commiserate. Or they can just point and laugh.
It all begins with a bed, a cat and a day of laundry.
I need to wash the bedding, and since we only have one set of sheets that fit the new bed, it’s a day long chore. I strip the bed with little interference, Gator watches with interest. Oh he knows what’s about to happen.
A couple hours later the first set of sheets is hot out of the dryer and ready to be put onto the bed. I enter the bedroom to see Gator, his tabbiness stretched out gloriously on the mattress.
The war begins.
First the fitted sheet. Lots of feline interference and it takes about 5 minutes to fit sheet snugly onto the mattress. He ducks and weaves as I try to tuck in the sides to neaten up the chaos. I only have to lift him up and move him once to succeed. I get this round.
The next sheet goes on. I accidentally have it the wrong way on, so I lose precious time, as I have to reorganize. Gator is working himself into a frenzy trying to prevent any sort of bed making to happen. He leaps wildly from end to end, attacking any and all folds and creases. We come to a head and the inevitable happens: I get nailed. Not sure if he uses his teeth or claws, but he’s picked up and unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Foul! No bloodletting allowed! I finish the sheet with Gator going berserk under the bed. There is no small concern that my feet are his next targets so I’m cautiously keeping an eye on him as I continue. When completed, I retire to the living room, mentally scolding the boyfriend unit that he needs to stop playing so rough with the cat.
An hour later it’s time to put on the flannel. I sigh and take it into the bedroom. Gator is sprawled out on the bed, an evil glint in his eye. This round goes a bit easier. He sticks mainly to the middle where the sheet is already smooth and defends his territory while I tuck in the edges.
Now it’s time for the blankets, after all, it’s still winter. Another trip to what is now the Gator Lair, and he tries to look uninterested. Nice try, I see that lazy blink for what it really is – absolute obsession. I try a new tactic: distraction.
I dump the blanket on the bed trying to look bored and wander back to the living room. I shake his bowl and he rockets out, thinking it’s treat time and he digs in. While he’s stuffing his face, I add the blanket to the bed with no kitty-interference. I win! Or do I? As I strut out of the room towards the couch and temporary freedom, he looks in the bedroom, then at me. I swear he swipes at my feet.
Then he vomits, *vomits* in front of the bedroom door*. Sighing, I clean it up while he trots into the living room. I notice another blanket that needs to be added to the bed and sneak most of it on before he leaps onto the bed. He’s too late and can only half-heartedly bat at the blanket while I neaten things up.
Only two more blankets, then I’m done. Hopefully with no more bodily fluids spilt.
I know I’m not the only one with the cat who must protect the bed at all costs, but are they *all* this violent?
[sub]*he does this often. It’s him still thinking he’s a stray cat and every meal is his last, which is why I feed him frequent small meals instead of big ones. Instead of kitty-projectiling daily, it’s down to every two weeks or so.[/sub]
We do similar rounds of bed making combat as we have 4 cats but we’ve long given up perfection… we just make the cat into the bed and then let them figure it out.
It is harder to do combat with our two year old though… she’s been taking lessons from the cats
Many’s the time I’ve made the bed around the cat. Everything is all neatly tucked in, but there is this big lump in the middle. He usually goes to sleep under there and doesn’t bother me till dinner time.
Oh my cats LOVE bedmaking time. Especially Misty. She LIKES having blankets tossed over her. Once, a couple of weeks ago, in fact, my sister had left her quilt on the floor, and she burrowed under it. Gypsy and Piper were batting at her from the outside.
In my house (and my sister’s house) we call that playing blanket monsters. Naturally, it isn’t just limited to “blankets”, and it isn’t just making the bed that gets her going. She also freaks out when something moves under the blanket, such as toes, and has to attack them as well.
The best part is that Mock, my 7 yr old tortie, will play blanket monsters until every single crease and lump is smoothed away by me. Then, I swear it’s intentional, she stomps around on the bed making more divots to play with. This could go on for hours, but I can usually distract her with a milk ring or a furry toy mouse.
BTW, the whole vomiting thing gets annoying, doesn’t it? Mock does the same thing about once a week or so. I can be dead asleep, and hear that hacking sound, and I am out of bed in a flash to clean it up. bleagh.
Yup, we’ve got three cats, and rare is the time when one or two aren’t trying to stay on the bed at all times while we’re making it. (The bed, that is - you know what I mean! ;))
We flip the (king-sized) mattress every so often to even out the lumps, and last weekend was one of those times. But this time, rather than deciding to just get off the mattress as I tilted it toward the vertical, Charlotte climbed onto the highest edge of the mattress, then rode it down as I flipped the mattress over. My wife and I were in stitches by the end of it.
ROTFLMAO*That’s too funny.
Yup…been there.Buttercup thinks the bed is her personal territory (along with the rest of the house)and defends it viciously whenever we try to make the bed or change the sheets. I’ve given up.She wins. I don’t make the bed anymore unless some friend or relative who’s never been to our house before comes over and gets the full tour,bedroom included.
We have a water bed and the cats LOVE lying on the naked bladder. They don’t so much fight the sheets as fight my trying to cover the soft gushy warmth.
And it is SO funny to come into the room and find 4 cats spread very thinly over the waterbed, trying to take up as much surface area as possible.
This is part of why there has been a “no mobile pets in the bedrooms” rule since the furballs were kittens. The only pets allowed in the bedrooms have been fish, and my brother’s caged bunny. I can’t deal with any mammals in the room, so the ferret lives in the kitchen. Noisy, scratching, hiding, jumping on you in the middle of the night and scaring the bejesus out of you pests…
Least you worry that they’re deprived, they get back at us in other rooms in the house
