Our cats are professionals at keeping us up at night. They have a certain pattern which they love to follow to lull us into a sense of complacency right before striking out to disrupt, if not outright destroy, our sleep cycle. The routine is predictable but we still fall for it time and time again. It's easy to thwart the looming attack, but like the French facing the Germans in the early part of WWII we are always content to believe our small line of defenses will hold them back. Speaking of France, our defensive system is quite similar. But, before we get to that point let me explain the battlefield. Key areas of concern involve the large sliding glass window with its plastic vertical blinds, the bed itself with it's down comforter covered in a noisy wine colored material, the hallway with its long runway for gaining speed, and the kitchen with its myriad of noise making devices ready to produce lots of kitty fun. Anyway, back to France. Like France we hardly ever take the initiative and actually do something before it is too late. Yes, we do have minor defenses such as the wall of pillows stacked each night along the blinds to help limit access to their noisy rattling, shutting doors somewhat to limit the speed of the kitties, and trying to put away the more obvious fun items to knock onto the floor. So, like the French we have a lousy, weak attempt at first line defense that the kitties will be sure to blitzkrieg over as if they don't really exist. If we were to take the initiative and place the kitties in a secure room we could probably stop all chances of their attacking our sleep, but like the French, night after night we convince ourselves the kitties will be thwarted by our weak attempts at placation and defense. The kitties attack capabilities consist of running through the blinds creating a horrible ruckus of plastic blades crashing against one another. If done right this creates a sound similar to Freddy from Nightmare on Elm street crashing through the glass door to slice open our chests and to rip our still beating hearts out so we can stare in horror until life fades from our eyes. Muffin is especially good at this technique. A second operation involves their chasing, wrestling, and assaulting one another up and down the hallway creating a sound of two wolverines attempting to rip each others throats apart. But, you must understand that this is a ruse to prevent us from understanding their true objective. It's more like a training maneuver for them. Lots of smoke and fake fire but little harm. Their true objective is to keep us up, wondering when the attack is going to come, shaking in our beds expecting little claws and teeth to rise up from underneath to pierce our skin and cover our sheets in a fine line of bloody drops. Brilliant maneuver on their part if I may say so. Another commonly used tactic involves locating large, often fragile, items hanging precariously close to the edge of countertops and tables. Upon their knowing we are finally entering a deep REM sleep they will send the item crashing onto the lino floor below to bring a horrendous crash and resounding echoes flying into the master bedroom. The net result is usually our jumping out of bed, or at least being shocked and awaken in a cold sweat, expecting the roof to be collapsing down upon our heads. They love this one but only deploy it at the most opportune times. They are also experts at guerilla warfare and special ops tactics. A more common and easily provided example utilizes the dreaded "HAIRBALL". This weapon is deployed with a horrible coughing, retching, gurgling sound that pierces the soul and sends the victims who happen to hear into shivers in their bed. The most insidious part of the whole process involves the leaving of a carpet mine to just wait until an unsuspecting individual gets up in the middle of the night to step upon the gooey mix of hair, food, and water. The result is predictable as the mine squishes up between the victim's toes to lodge solidly. The victim often dances around screaming something like "disgusting", "oh my god, gross" or other more penetrating language we shall not mention here.
Ah yes, they look so cute in the pictures. Harmless, innocent. . .how could someone not love them? Just like the German's in 1939. Well dressed, well kept, well organized. But, underneath sharp teeth and claws ready to sprint out and destroy yet another night of blissful sleep to turn their prey into walking zombies for another day. Thank god for coffee.
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