Blarg!

Things I need:
* To get more sleep.
* To get to sleep earlier.
* To be able to wake up promptly with my alarm.
* To not heed my cats' mewling "we're SO lost and NO ONE cares enough to come find us!" cries at 2 a.m.

Haircat

I gave Watson a haircut last night.

He grooms himself - I mean, we SEE him grooming himself - but the hair on his chest was matted, like under his chin, on his chest, where he can't really get to it anymore, and his lower back was just sort of greasy.

I know cats have natural oils and all that, but this was just this side of getting stuff stuck in it ...

He purred the whole time, then got twitchy.

So I put down treat food and they both ignored it. Blarg. When it's too hot for cats to enjoy treats, that's too blarging hot.

And then when I had this pile of extra kitty fur, he started sniffing it.

I could only imagine the philsophical Sartre battle waging in his feline brain: "I'm over there, but I'm here. That smells and looks like me, but I am over here. She's taking from me and adding to that. I've achieved enlightenment: I AM in two places at once."

Cats -- and evidence thereof -- is EVERYWHERE

I own two cats -- or rather, two cats who rule our lives live with us -- and they basically pwn our apartment. We are just lucky that they don't like getting on the kitchen counter or eating human food, or quite frankly, I just don't know that we'd be able to keep the human-cat power balance, well, balanced.
And yet, as much as I love the furry little buggers and everything about them (except their dooks -- those are nasty), I am really starting to resent their HAIR.
It gets everywhere.
Clothes fresh from the drier have cat hairs on them.
When I wake up in the morning, I have cat hair in my hair ... and sometimes in my nose.
White, fluffy, lighter-than-air dander floats around my car, a car the cats have never been in.

I have black clothes I can't wear, so sullen are they with cat hair.

And yet ...
When they purr their affection with a sidle at my ankles, when they cozy up to me when I get home from work, when they nap on my chest when we're chilling in the living room, I know that I love them beyond all reason, in spite of the tufts they'll leave in their wake when they have their CatTacks later.
Tufts I call my White Badge of Affection.