• November 24, 2014

If I kill the cat, I assure you it was justified

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Posted: Friday, September 20, 2013 4:30 am

We are nearly three months into this whole baby adventure, and the wife and I really feel like we finally have the hang of things.

We have figured out the schedule he is usually on, what works to calm him down and what we can do to make him smile.

Sure, there are days when he is simply inconsolable, but those are now few and far between.

The only factors we don’t have under control are our cats. Specifically, one cat. Pat. The fat one.

As long as we have been together, this cat has been … odd. On numerous occasions, he woke us up in the middle of the night by sitting in the living room and meowing as loudly as he can.

He doesn’t need anything, doesn’t want anything. He just wants to sit and make noise. Needless to say, this gets very frustrating, especially after a late night.

With the arrival of our son, the cat’s strange behavior has only gotten worse. Every night I lie awake, waiting to hear him howl for no reason, followed shortly by the sound of the baby crying. As if that fear wasn’t bad enough, he has developed a new habit: He hides under the crib.

At night, we close the door to the baby’s room to keep the cats out. But a few weeks ago, shortly after putting our son down, we heard a strange noise on the baby monitor.

We couldn’t figure out what it was. After about 10 minutes, we decided to head into the nursery and see what was going on. We opened the door, and out bolted this fat cat like a bat out of hell.

How did he get in there?

He’s fat. He’s clumsy. He’s not quiet at all. How does this gigantic orange creature manage to sneak into the nursery and successfully hide?

Every time we leave the nursery, we check all the hiding spots: in the window, under the chair, under the changing table, and under the crib.

Somehow, this cat still manages to remain concealed.

He’s also not very bright. On the rare occasions that I find him hiding in the nursery, I use a spray bottle to get him to run out. After leaving the nursery to refill the spray bottle, I come back and continue to drench this cat until he finally leaves. He doesn’t like being wet, but somehow he hasn’t figured out that the only time I spray him is when he’s hiding under the crib.

Then, sopping wet, he lies on a bed, on an office chair or on a sleeping adult and leaves these large, hairy, mysterious wet patches throughout the house.

After losing sleep because of his antics, after cleaning up after the messes he makes, after yelling at him for waking up the baby, we finally get some rest.

But, we know the next day, we will face more battles with this crazy cat. But hey, at least he doesn’t urinate on the furniture anymore ... I think.

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