Weekend Adventures with Big Cat

I have always been a dog person. I will probably always be a dog person. I say this with a cat curled against my tailbone area, being adorable, knowing I don't like it as much as my dog and plotting my ultimate demise. That is the thing about cats. One second they are adorable, the next they are getting in the way of everything you try to do and the next they are trying to suffocate you by standing on your windpipe. Add to this the fact that I have, literally, the most incredible dog in the world, and you can understand why my love for dogs outstripes my love for cats.

I defy you to not love this face.

As life would have it, I currently live with two cats. This weekend my apartment-mate is out of town and has taken Little Cat with her, so Big Cat and I are just hanging out. (They have real names, I am just lazy). Anyway, last night I had an experience that reminded me why I will probably never own a cat myself.

Note: as I write this, Big Cat is using me as a jungle gym and standing directly in front of my face whenever possible. I can't stop sneezing.

To begin, I made a lasagna. This story has nothing to do with that lasagna other than I ate entirely too much of it. I originally intended to have four people for dinner but at the end of the day, one couldn't make it and one doesn't like lasagna. So it was just me and Steph, a GIGANTIC party size lasagna and an equally gigantic bottle of white wine. Two pieces of lasagna, three glasses of wine and five episodes of 30 Rock went by. Overfull and slightly intoxicated, I decided it would be cruel to shut Big Cat out of my room.

During the course of the night, I am pretty sure Big Cat tried to kill me three seperate times. First, I woke up with her standing on my neck, glaring down at me as if she was about to bite into my jugular. This inspired me to get up and put on pants. For some reason, sleepingzzzzzzzzz (Big Cat did that - I'm leaving it because I think it's hilarious) in a t-shirt and boxers felt weird with Big Cat in the bed. "What if she tries to eat my legs?" must have been my half-asleep train of thought. So I got up and changed and crawled right back into bed.

Next, I woke up rather suddenly and saw furry cat ass backing into my face. I'm not sure how related the two are, but I also needed something to drink sooner than immediately. I pushed the poised ready to smother fuzz butt out of my face, got up again, and got some water. Big Cat followed me down stairs and tried to climb into the refridgerator. At this point I was so tired I forgot how to make the Brita stop pouring for a second and almost spilled water everywhere, so getting a cat out of the fridge was an insurrmountable task. We headed back upstairs and I promptly fell back asleep.

Somewhere around 3:10, I awoke again to a sharp pain in my foot. I looked down and saw Big Cat trying to consume my left foot. I KNEW IT! I should have put on socks too! I got up for the final time, picked her up, plopped her outside the door, shut it and went back to sleep.

Now, my dog, he would never try to sit on my face or eat my feet. He is just a 70 pound bundle of unrequited love and snuggles and fear smell - he's terrified of absolutely everything and allergic to protein. He's extremely sensitive. My mom thinks it is pathetic. I think it is adorable (or at least I will until somebody breaks into the house and he does nothing but pee himself and hide under a bed). Sleeping with Charlie is like sleeping with a furry body pillow that takes up more space than you do and literally digs you out of bed at an ungodly hour. Sleeping with Big Cat is like taking your very life into your hands.

I'll take my bed hog, blankets digging, scared of plastic bags dog any day.