the jmeoww diaries: V.16

Let's pretend for a moment that I didn't plan a grand return to blogging and then majorly fail. Let's also NOT pretend that you are here for any other reason than to hear about her. Because as much as I think about writing and getting back into the swing of things, the one thing that actually gets me to sit my butt down with the laptop that Justin bought me for this exact purpose — IS HER.

Her being JMEOWW Ann Gee-Dee. For those of you who may have stumbled upon this blog by accident, you are in fact reading about a cat. But not just any cat. A cat who howls like a toddler if I dare to use the restroom when I get home from work, rather than give her my undivided attention. A cat who does not settle down for the night until both of her humans are in their proper places on the couch. A cat who demands treats be placed in an old wrapping paper tube so she may be entertained. THAT CAT.

So, here we are. And how is she doing, you ask? Well, we think she is broken. Or that she is going through a phase that I have dubbed "mewburty." You know, puberty. But for cats. Even though she is fixed because for fuck's sake spay and neuter your animals you heathens.

We aren't sure if it is the El Nino or then sudden 85 degree weather, or that she is simply just aging; but she has been "off." And by "off" I mean she literally does not move off of her new spot on the couch. A cushion that will never return to its original form because since the day she discovered its comfort and perfection approximately two months ago she rarely leaves it. Very near to her spot on the couch is my spot on the couch, which means that I often get my head aggressively stroked by her tail (which is rarely at rest). And I get to listen to her cleaning her toe cheese which I feel like she knows irritates the shit out of me so she saves it until she is above my head.

It took her two years to find this spot and apparently she is never leaving it EVER.

Justin and I realized, just last night, that this is because from her cushion perch she can see most of the apartment, so she will always know where we are. It may also be due to the fact that my essential oil diffuser is near her watchtower and she HATES the essential oil diffuser even though I am obsessed with it and its also not my fault that our living room has so few electrical outlets that are accessible for my needs.

In addition to the not moving situation, her meow clock is broken. The meow clock typically sounds about 10 minutes before my actual alarm clock goes off and does not stop going off until I am up and out of bed feeding her (typically 3-4 alarm snoozes later). In the past few weeks she has rarely made her alarm clock appearance and when she does it is unusually polite. Like a gentle little meep meow instead of her usual desperate howl of starvation. On the weekends, however, the meow clock sounds approximately two hours too early (Justin has jmeoww breakfast duty on the weekend because we share parenting responsibilities like that). So when I wake up before her, I FIND HER ON THE COUCH PERCH. And she just looks back at me like, "Oh. Hey. Yea put some food in that bowl I'll get it later, no rush Ma!"Like she is suddenly some chill, non-neurotic rainman of an animal that is okay with casually being fed, like whenever bro. SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT YOU GUYS.

She's only happy when it rains. CORRECTION: She does not shut up when it rains
because she is the Paul Revere of rain, as if we couldn't tell what is happening outside.

So, perhaps she has the winter sads or just the plain old lazies. Perhaps the couch really is just that comfortable (I mean, I have been known to fall asleep on it 4-6x per week). But as long as we are all in the living room at the same time, all is well and she can return to her couch perch. Oh, and as long as there is an ice cube in her water, she is fine. Also as long as the bathroom door is open while you use the toilet, she is fine. MEWBURTY, you guys.