Okay. Truly, he has never really left my list of things about my life I would simplify in an instant. A nice fur rug in front of the fireplace or a pair of warm mittens perhaps? I'm not a violent person, but this cat SO MAKES ME CRAZY! And I think that after I explain this morning, no one will sympathize with the ball of orange fur that takes up space in our home.
Things here have been a little unconventional. Between my 10-day stomach flu accompanied by Shelby's broken finger, Abigail's current batch of infections (double ears, double eyes, nose, and chest -- eeewww) and Dad's car accident and subsequent hospital stay sandwiched in between, Nox has not received the world's best care. He has been feed and watered, although I'll admit that it's not been his daily preference of fresh water. Dawson has done reasonably well keeping the litter box cleaned out even though it isn't nearly as "sparkling" as when Scott or I do it. But, seriously. Given everything which has been happening, I think we did a pretty good job balancing people with the cat.
So, this morning, he came into the living room with his nose in the air and his tail puffed in irritation. He proceeded to a pile of blankets Keats and Aidan had made in the middle of the living room floor. (They like to practice flying and the blankets provide a relatively soft landing.) Nox climbed on the top of the pile, shifted his weight and made enough noise to ensure we were all looking at him. Then Nox, the creature who should be honoring us for his very cush life, PEED RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE!!!! On top of a pile of human blankets used to help us stay warm! And don't think that I don't know just how intentional this act was. I could see it in his beady little eyes.
We all just stared. What else could we do? Pick him up mid-urination and carry him to a more appropriate venue? Then we would have to clean blankets, the floor, probably a wall or two, not to mention how ever many people he managed to aim at along the way. So there we stand, completely helpless as the cat decides that our lives for the past three weeks have not been interesting enough. What a turd.
Of course, the children all still think the cat hung the moon. They fussed over his sufferings and made sure he had extra treats today, since obviously Nox is feeling neglected. Oh please. Perhaps the next time he investigates the fireplace when I am preparing to light a fire I won't be quite so quick to shoo His Honor out of the path of impending danger. Then he'll know. Don't mess with me.