Feline mind tricks

I can’t remember the last time I slept all the way through the night without getting up in the wee hours of the morning to pee.  I’m not eighty, folks.  I’m just a poor soul cursed with a small bladder.  Although, having to pee every hour or two has its advantages: I know where every public bathroom is in every mall in a thirty-mile radius.  But, I digress.

I have this weird thing where I don’t like to turn on lights in the middle of the night.  If I do, I can’t get back to sleep.  Remaining in darkness somehow keeps me in a safe sleep bubble.  So, every night around 3:00AM I stumble out of bed, trip over my slippers and, half asleep, blindly make my way to the bathroom, groping for walls and doorknobs.  It’s only about three feet from my bedroom door to the bathroom, so pitch black maneuvering isn’t usually a problem.

Unless there is a cat sitting in the hallway.

Bonnie Cat is not allowed in the bedroom.  This rule is in place because a member of the household is very allergic to her, so the bedroom is a cat-free sanctuary into which he can retreat for a peaceful night’s sleep.

The first few weeks I had her were pretty excruciating.  Every night she would sit outside the bedroom door and meow.  I’m not talking howling, but crying meows that sounded like a child asking, “Don’t you love me anymore?”

Fortunately, I learned that she would stop after a while and that my guilt was only temporary.  It’s an arrangement that works well for us: she gets free range of the rest of the apartment at night, and I get to sleep without a cat on my face.

However, in the midst of my blind middle-of-the-night bathroom runs I don’t always think to close the bedroom door behind me.  Naturally, Bonnie Cat takes the opportunity to dart into forbidden territory, sniffing at everything she can before I snatch her up in my arms and kick her out of my chamber of slumber.

Usually, her intrusions are uneventful: she hides under the bed and I coax her out with some Kitty Greenies.  But sometimes, just sometimes, disaster strikes.  And last night was one of those nights.

Bonnie Cat had jumped onto the bed and, for some unknown reason, taken an intense interest in the glass of water that sat atop my dresser.  From the bathroom I heard it: Clink!  Clunk!  Sploosh!  Spatter!  Scuffle! Sighing, and now totally awake, I swept into the room to assess the damage.

The glass had been tipped over, its contents spilled not just on the floor, but also on my bed and pillow.

“Shame on you!” I yelled, pointing a scolding finger in her direction.  She knew she was in trouble so I didn’t even have to coax her out of the room; she just bolted, fearing my wrath.

Fortunately, my state of wakefulness didn’t last long.  Two beach towels and a fresh glass of water later, I was sound asleep.

This morning I awoke well rested, but still a bit cheesed off at the cat that had made me sleep on the tiny corner of bed that was not damp.  She spotted me from the living room and bounded towards me, rubbing against my legs and purring loudly.  (She’s still a fairly young cat, so she bounds most everywhere she goes.)  Sighing, I squatted down to pick her up.

For a brief moment our eyes met.  A faint squeak of a meow escaped her mouth.  I could feel the purring rumbling through her body.  She nuzzled her tiny head into my neck, and was asleep within two minutes.  Suddenly, I realized I was no longer angry with her.

What the hell just happened?  I am not usually susceptible to the “cute treatment.”  I hold grudges for years.  I am fully aware that pets are like very small children, not knowing what they are doing is wrong.  But this cat knew what she was doing.  So why was I no longer peeved about the still damp sheets on my bed?

I think Bonnie Cat was secretly trained in Jedi mind control before I got her. In the split second that we looked into each other’s eyes, she must have said in that meow, “You forgive your cat.  Knocking over that glass of water was no big deal.  You like sleeping on damp sheets.  Bonnie Cat is the sweetest cat that ever walked the earth.  You will feed her tuna tonight.”

That’s my only explanation.