DON'T YOU DARE SLEEP

The coldest day of the season hit several days ago with a chilling 21 degrees.  Naturally my propane furnace decided  that would be the perfect time to blow cold air out the registers.  

Now I am someone who normally enjoys the cold.  I love winter clothing, the air smells cleaner and the briskness actually puts a spring in my limp. 

I do not however enjoy sitting around my house, eating or taking a bath blowing smoky vapor when I breathe. I so feel for those in Sandy's path who have had to do that very thing. My heart hurt for those poor souls.

I was so much luckier.  I checked the furnace and saw the pilot light had gone out. So I just lit it again and away I went as though nothing had happened.  All was warm again.

Then at around 9 PM, I was taking a bath when the cool breezes hit again taking a bunch of the comfort and fun out of a warm tub.  Hum--- pilot light went out again.   So once more I lit the pilot and went to bed.

The third time it happened around 1 AM when the chill woke me up.  I realized I could no longer trust the furnace and resorted to my back up heater on the bedroom wall.  It is also propane but not vented so in order not to asphyxiate myself in my sleep via carbon monoxide, I had to open up the bedroom door.

Well that gave my cat Minnie (formerly known for her paint peeling gas attacks which thankfully have been cured) free access to the bed and---me.  Not a good thing. 

I willingly let Mighty Dog sleep on the bed for he takes up no more room than a throw pillow and never moves. I don't even know he is there once my eyes close.

Minnie however is another story and really makes sleep a struggle.  She alternately drapes herself over my face making breathing difficult, head butts me, pins my legs to the bed by sprawling on them then yowls incessantly when I put her on the floor. Minnie is the bed buddy from Hell and thus is normally banished from the bedroom at night.

The only worse pet  I ever attempted to share my bed with was Loki, my first Great Dane.  A beautiful 180 pound creature for sure but he would stab me with his giant toe nails, hogged the covers, snored like a drunken stevedore and passed noisy, noxious gas.  We only tried it once. I told him he could only get away with that behavior if he were buying the groceries and paying the mortgage.

Anyway, Minnie kept me up all night either pouncing on me or griping noisily when I kept putting  her on the floor.  She has no conception of  "inside voice." 

I was exhausted and so was she next day.  However, I had things to do like getting the furnace fixed.   She had nothing at all planned.

This is what I kept seeing through out the day.

Think she might need to work on her core.

In my heart I wanted to bounce her on the bed like it was a trampoline and growl, "Don't you dare sleep!!!!"

Instead I took a passive aggressive approach. Every time I passed her I would pet her, perhaps just a wee bit vigorously, to make sure she would wake up.  The first couple of times I woke her, she would purr a bit quizzically but seemed to enjoy the attention.  

However as the day wore on, her reception of my wake-up-petting  became strained. In my head I snarled the, "Don't you dare sleep" each time I woke her but in actuality, using my singsong voice reserved for pets and small children I sweetly asked her,"And how does that feel Dumplin?" Her day I am guessing was as long as my night. 


A millisecond after a long yawn.  I just wasn't quick enough.

 Her squinty eyed, pitiful look that I captured just after she had enjoyed a deep yawn clearly imparted the message,"What's with all this affection crap? Can't you see I am trying to sleep here?"

Revenge really does have a sweet taste. I may not be proud of my behavior but I must say it was rewarding. We both slept quite soundly that night.   

Have you ever slipped over to the dark side and sought an equivalent retaliation for the unpleasant behavior by another??