When even Coffee can’t fix it
Yes, it is sad to say that this weekend has been interesting at Chez Sickness. First, yes, I’m slightly better, but still thinking of calling the doctor, because seriously folks 5 days of razor blades in my throat is ENOUGH, plus this sleeping 3 hours at a time thing is slowly sucking my will to go on. Secondly, Duke has been fighting with a little version of this ‘plague’ of his own. I keep trying to tell Prince that we have Ebola, but he’s not listening. Instead he declares, “Oh, fun, cough medicine all around!” (Then Duke and I scurried — because it is only cute if we scurry — to get our meds.) Finally, I was forced to trade my beloved coffee for hot tea all weekend because frankly coffee does not go well with the razor blades that have nested in the back of my throat.
So, since I’m sure no one wants to hear the details of my illness, of how being lazy all weekend was an artform of the highest measure, and how much TV I caught up on while I was being all sick, I give you my latest open letter.
Dear Felines in my House:
I love each of you for completely different reasons.
- There Fatty (who is no longer fat), you’ve been with me for ehat seems like forever. I love how you beg for Pounce on your back legs. I love how you know when I don’t feel well and come to snuggle up close. What I don’t like is that you have decided I’m not capable of going to the bedroom alone. I do not need you to meow at me while I pee. I do not need you to hop up in my lap, this is a time I wish to be alone.
- There is Snobby. You and I have a delicate relationship at best. You tolerate me and I attempt to annoy you at every turn. I don’t mind that you come into our room at night. I have no problem that you hop up on the bed. Do you think it would be possible for you not to sit and stare at me while I sleep? I’ve started to dream that you are plotting my demise as everything I open my eyes I see you staring at me. Don’t you sleep?
- Finally, there is Crazy. First, you need to STOP eating. You gained 4 pounds and that’s not good. I realize you have never met a bowl of food that you don’t love, but seriously pace yourself. However, more importantly, you’ve got to stop meowing into the phone while I’m working. It just isn’t professional of you.
So you see, I really do love each of you. However, we need to talk about the laundry. You see, I’m tired of doing it and you are now causing more than your fair share. I’ve counted 4 loads of laundry that YOU produced, which is a feat since you do not wear clothing. Seriously, I like clean sheets just like the next person, but I really am over the nightly load of bedlinens because someone puked on our bed. I’m ok with the puke that you leave for my bare feet to step in at night, but seriously — stop with the bed pukes, ok?
Please never forget that you live here at my whim, and thus you ought to be doing more to suck up to me and share your furry love with me. And no, I do not consider the contents of your stomach on my bed to be your furry love. Just, no.
Your Queen