the jmeoww diaries v.8

Fans of the beloved queen beast, welcome to our story of the month — stories, if you will. March was a challenging month for our dear JMEOWW. And although not as traumatic as going to the vet she did have some hurdles, the first being abandonment.

Jmeoww is not the type of cat that you can leave for a day or two and not worry about it. She is the opposite of everything you've ever heard about cats due to her severe abandonment issues stemming from her rough kittenhood. So when Justin and I took our 6-day vacation a few weeks ago, we enlisted my little sister to be our meowwsitter. She reluctantly agreed. She was jmeoww's original auntie, and then she went and got a meoww of her own. And now they do things like this together...

The only Harlem Shake I would ever MAKE you watch.

We thought that having Brittany check in on jmeoww would make it a lot easier for us when we returned. She wouldn't be so needy, we thought. She will adjust just fine, we proclaimed. When we walked through the door late Friday night we heard the loudest meows you would ever hear in your life. She ran laps. She meow-screamed. She ran in and out on the patio. And OMG HAVE YOU SEEN THE BIRD POOP OUTSIDE COME LOOK AT IT!

Jmeoww didn't sleep for almost two days, you guys. She meowed. She ran in circles. She lurked. She did everything but sleep. If she went to sleep, we would leave again. She just knew it. So she stayed awake. She yawned and head-nodded her little heart away but she kept her vigil. For nearly two days.

"You still have things in your travel box. I SHALL HELP."

When she did decide to sleep, she decided it was time to share the bed with us again. Two tall-ass adults that had spent a week in luxurious king beds were now sharing a queen bed with a fatass cat. Cute, yes. Comfortable, never. But do not under any circumstances try to move her or adjust your own self. THIS IS HOW IT MUST BE FROM NOW ON, HUMANS.

And if the pure shock and excitement of us coming home wasn't enough, fucking Iams changed the shape of her food again. Which she alerted us to several times. Yes, we see it. Yes, we are so sorry. Yes, I will write them a strongly worded email tomorrow. Yes, you can proofread it. Yes, you should definitely bring the kibbles over to the carpet and eat them so we can all see that you've accepted the shape change.

The final challenge that March served Jmeoww was daylight savings. Among her many skills, she has the unique ability of being an alarm clock. When she hears my alarm go off, if I am not out of bed by the next snooze she comes and meows in my face. It is charming, it really is. Well, her internal meow clock did not set itself ahead an hour so she was coming in at 6 a.m. meowing like there was some sort of emergency and she was probably saving the day. Not quite my darling animal. Go the fuck to sleep.

One of those morning when she came in too early to get me out of bed, a series of ill-timed events led to vaginal trauma that I have not emotionally recovered from. She was walking, ever so daintily on me and then over to Justin. She brushed his arm with her fur, which startled him in his sleep and he whacked her, scaring her and flinging her into the air. Where did she land? In my crotch, claws out leaving a nice puncture wound behind. She has scratched me in many places, but this was a first for sure.

We have all mostly recovered, just in time for another trip to the vet in two weeks (with sedatives this time...for all of us!). Jmeoww's life, you guys? Hard knock, indeed.