Anti-Nap

Here I am going on about weddings , lost jobs, new babies and college courses when I have neglected to mention a new addition to my household. Michelle will tell you if you ask that this thing was simply the Best. Gift. Ever. (though possibly without the pop culture emphasis) and I will grudgingly agree that it is nice to have around. The “it” I refer to is Michelle’s kitten who we eventually called Fudge.

Laura and Stuart took Michelle and I to Maryhill (to buy Michelle’s birthday gift after I had given my reluctant consent to do so. Thankfully when we got there we found no jewellery on the kitten nor did she have her ears pierced, apparently it’s only the human children that have this done to them (right after the doctor smacks the weans arse I hear). When we got her home and opened her cat box the then nameless kittens first act was to run and hide behind the couch. Then behind the chair. Then under the computer.

After a few days she stopped hiding (as much) and was quickly bonding with Michelle. After much posturing in the time leading up to the cat being bought my intended indifference was shattered when I saw the cute tiny wittle pwitty kitten!

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Much thought went into her name and though I called her Stinkor (complements of Mr. Tonner) for quite some time we came up with a definitive name on the third day. Named after the mischievous tomboy and classic literature character we would call her Scout.

We would call her Scout, as it turned out, for about a week until Michelle decided she didn’t like it. Yet again the kitten was nameless and I refused to allow Michelle simply call her ‘Cat’ which she had wanted to do. I’m also generally against having human names for animals unless it fits, and none of the human names suggested did so.

You’d have to ask Michelle came up with it but eventually she suggested, in fact stated that the kitten’s name was Fudge. Now at first I thought “Fudge?” in the same way that I’m sure anyone reading this for the first time must be thinking it. In due course though the more I thought of Fudge being the name for this kitten the more it seemed to fit for me. Others when I told them said “Fudge?” as I had and my sister said that it sounded rude but, like me, they came round to it.

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I’m a little ashamed to say (though I’m not sure why) that I love having the cat around. Sure she claws the foot stool, sure I have to shovel her excrement into a bag and out to the bin but that doesn’t matter. She’s fun, she’s friendly (no clawing) and she’s clean. However I could live without the anti-naps.

Between the hours of 4.30am and 5.30am I am awoken each night by a poking on sole of my foot. This is not painful by any stretch of the imagination but it does mean I’m awake. And once I’m awake I’m awake, it takes half an hour to an hour out of my sleep thus it’s kind of the opposite of a nap; an Anti-nap. I used to think she was hungry but these days I think she’s just bored. Michelle and I are out all day so she naturally just sleeps. It turns out that by 5.30am she had her fill of sleep so she’s up.

I can’t keep her out the room because there’s not latch on the door and I can’t keep her in the living room because her litter box is in the hall and if you move that they get confused about where to go to the toilet and I’m not cleaning that mess. It’s not so bad really. I get a drink and I can get stuff ready for the morning.

In truth I know that if I could keep her out the room I wouldn’t. her bed’s in our room and she just cries and scratches pathetically at the door anytime we try to block it. You try not feeling bad about a tiny creature trying to get to you for no other reason than not wanting to be alone!

Ah I’m weak and I know it…