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My sister and her kids came to stay last week, as you know, having seen the creative writing cat posts from Wednesday and Thursday. Cat Daddy and I don’t share a bedroom on account of his snoring so, when we have more than two overnight guests, one of us often sleeps on the sofa so that the other can have a restful night. 

Unfortunately Louis Catorze becomes very excitable and over-stimulated at anything which disrupts his routine, such as, erm, a person sleeping in a place where they don’t usually sleep. 

You can see where this is going, can’t you? 

On the first night, I took the sofa. During CST, Catorze usually shows no interest whatsoever in sleeping next to me. However, on this occasion, because the location was something new and unusual, he was all over me, bouncing around, screaming and generally being a pain in the arse. 

As a result, I had a predictably shocking night’s sleep. 

Cat Daddy: “You should have shut him out of the room.”

Me: “He’d only have screamed for the door to be opened.”

Him: “He’d have got bored eventually.”

Whatever.

For the next few nights, Cat Daddy took the sofa. At first he kept the door open and suffered the same fate of being used as a trampoline. Then, on the last night, he closed the door, bizarrely believing that he had outfoxed Catorze despite my warnings. I felt like the old man in horror films who tells the reckless teenagers not to go poking around in the haunted woods. So many more teenagers would still be alive if they’d only listened to the old man.

Catorze sat outside the closed door, whining, for hours. And hours. AND HOURS. It wasn’t even his usual whine, which is bad enough, but a new, extra-guttural werewolf sound that I have never heard before, clearly invented just for that night. It was excruciating. I called to him a couple of times and, each time, he came. But, after a few half-hearted bounces and murmurs, he returned downstairs to resume his wounded werewolf sounds. 

Cat Daddy went to the bathroom at 4:30am, having inexplicably heard none of the whining (?). Naturellement, once the door was opened, Catorze then decided that he no longer wanted to go into the room and, instead, went outside to gad about with the other creatures of the night. 

Cat Daddy later told me that he fed Catorze before going to the bathroom, so now the little sod is going to expect an extra meal at 4:30am. Oh God. All my years of ridiculing people who get up at stupid times to feed their cats, have just crumbled into smoking ash in front of my eyes. 

Absolute bastard cat. 

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