Mrrrrrrrewwwwoooooooww!!!!!

HISS!!! Fft fft! Reeeeerrrrrrowowwwwwww.

This is what I woke up to at 4am this morning.

[Bleepity bleep bleep] cat son of a [bleepity].

Some neighborhood cat likes to come and torture my cat. My bedroom is sort of in a basement—the windowsill is even with the ground outside. Jane likes to sit in the windowsill and sleep or chill or soak up some sun during the day. So this morning she was chillin on the sill when the frickin frackin neighbor cat (we’ll call him Bob) comes along to taunt her. So then they start fighting through the window. It’s like they’re trying to scratch each other to pieces through the glass.

If it hadn’t been 4am, it might have been funny.

But you would not believe the noise this causes. Not only are both scratching the window and prancing about and hissing and moaning and bitching and meowing, but Jane is also running back and forth smashing around the blinds on my window and causing me great sleep deprivation. Bob isn’t helping because he keep pacing about outside.



This isn’t the first time they’ve had an episode like this. My friend told me to get a squirt bottle and spray the intruder through my screen. Of course I didn’t listen, so I had no squirt bottle. So I stumble out of bed, try to wrap a blanket around myself so I don’t flash anyone who might be up at 4am, throw open the window and start spraying the shit out of the cat with…yes folks, my hairspray.

Apparently at 4am I am white trash.

And the cat backed off for a while, but wouldn’t give it up, so I decided that I was just going to kick Jane’s butt out of my room and shut my doors (which I have never done before). Of course, Jane’s in fight mode, so this won’t be easy if I want to keep my appendages. So in a further display of classy behavior, I take the blanket off, grab my cat with it, and toss her out as she drools and hisses and claws at me. I put her on the other side of my door and say “you’re sleeping upstairs.” She looks at me, totally dejected, and runs upstairs.

Bob’s not quite done yet, though, and in a last-ditch effort he scratches at my window again to see if Jane will come back. Ha ha you little shit, game’s up!



When I opened my bedroom door this morning, there was Jane at the top of my stairs, looking quite pissed with her ears back. She gave me a resounding “me-OW!” and walked off. But she loved me again once I gave her some food.

So I’ll be stopping off at the store after work for a spray bottle.

…And a new bottle of hairspray. And maybe something to clean the sticky residue off my window screen.


But I caved. I bought my shoes. They should be here on Wednesday. Hey, I needed some shoe therapy.