SWEET REVENGE!!!
Anyone who’s ever lived with a Maine Coon knows that they are… different. I know not everyone out there’s a cat lover or an animal lover. For me, living with animals is like breathing, and I don’t have a preference between cats and dogs. I just happen to have cats.
I’ve had sweet ones, loving, aloof, lazy, and crazy. Literally crazy, because of a slight chemical imbalance. Most of them have stories like my own. I’m used to being the emotional shelter for a neurotic, anxiety filled feline.
Maine Coons… they are… different. How, I can’t exactly put my finger on.
My pillow nemesis, who, by the way, is not my princess cat, is one. I don’t sleep very well with anything touching my face. For my Maine Coon… this is his preferred place to be- on my face. Which means anytime I wake up, which he is normally the cause of, his face is RIGHT THERE.
He does not deal well with his world being out of whack. Which means- his toys, the food bowl, the water dish, the litter boxes. Which means he wakes me up or basically throws a fit until there is a “correction.” And I don’t mean the normal- hey, mom, the food is empty kind of unhappy. It gets into fits of jealousy, especially when I’m on the phone, and he throws a temper tantrum. But on the plus side, when mom died, he was right there. All the time, warm and cuddly. My constant companion.
Maine Coons are also incredibly talkative and my 18.5 pound beast is no exception.
Tonight, we are watching tv. He is rolled on his back and I love it when he’s like this. Loose, lax, sleepy. Relaxed.
So my revenge, for waking me up starting at 5 AM, when I don’t have to be up until 6:15, is tapping him with my toe.
Think of a furry, cuddly version of the Pillsbury Dough Boy. You know, poke him in the belly and he giggles. Well, tap my Maine Coon and he mrrps. Each and every time.
Tap.
Mrrp.
Tap.
Mrrp.
Well over a half hour of this. Well over. I have been cracking up, watching him, because his eyes stay relaxedly closed, but his belly squeezes to sound off.
Tap.
Mrrp.
Finally, after this half hour, he opens his eyes and gives me the look of death. The same one I give him after he’s woken me up for the 17th time in a row.
As I said. Sweet revenge.