Jan 11 2010
Doorman
Whoever set the Audrometer to go off at 4:30 – enough already!
This seems to be her favorite time to get up in the morning, even though it’s pitch black out and makes me really crabby. Now I don’t even bother to put on my glasses. I just lurch out of bed, open the door, and crawl back into bed, swearing. June sleeps through the whole thing (on the bed) and so does Henry Etta (on the duvet on the couch).
This morning, I let Audrey out on time and went back to sleep until 8:00 or so. I went downstairs to make coffee, and while I was in the middle of it, I heard the balcony door rattling and squeaking upstairs as Audrey demanded to be let in. I finished the coffeemaking process and went outside to the porch to call her, hoping that she’d come downstairs instead of my having to go back upstairs (this is why I never make a new year’s resolution to be less slothful. Never going to happen, my friend).
Of course she didn’t, since Audrey’s goal is never to make my life easier. While I was calling her, I felt something cold and damp poke my butt. Turning around in surprise, I looked into Lucky’s huge brown eyes. I moved away quickly before she could start eating my pajamas, remembering how she ate the futon filling with evident enjoyment.
I went back into the house and upstairs to let Audrey in.
I have to admit that I’m getting pretty tired of being a cat doorman. The pay is terrible, and they never tip me, even at Christmas. I’ve been thinking about putting in a cat door to the outside – the one I have is between the house and the cold storage – but then the cats could bring in mice and birds during the day, though I’d lock it at night. I saw June catch a mouse today and spend ages playing with the hapless creature*. Needless to say, I was repulsed by the whole thing, and when I told my sister about it, she trumped me as usual. One of her cats had left a dead and dismembered bird right by the bed.
That’s worse than being woken up by the Audrometer.
*It’s a lot easier to feel sorry for mice when they are outside and behind glass. Or in a Beatrix Potter story, wearing little hats and waistcoats.