my favorite activities

I have lots of weekends where my favorite activities include cuddling with various animals (they change) - Chester is my elder statesman cat even though he is exactly the same age as Whiner but Chester's personality is one of dignified acceptance and sneaky attacks on other cats and occasionally my toes. He likes to climb up the bed (he can no longer leap so far) and if I make the horrid mistake of extruding parts of my body near that spot in the bed his claws will climb me (not so fun) Chester likes to walk over me (expressing his authority) before finding some slightly inconvenient place to snuggle against my body heat.

I have a lot of body heat.

Chester tends to want to be close to my face (quite alarming) and I often think he is contemplating eating me while I sleep (he's a tad fat) - he's learned I will not get out of the bed to open or close the door for him - this discovery did not please him and occasionally, when he remembers it, he punishes me by puking on my covers or otherwise expressing his disdain for my lack of compliance.

Winky is my son's chocolate Siamese. He hates me. He thinks I'm okay. I raised him mostly and back then he loved me. But a lot happened in the gap. My son rushed him in here several months ago (I'm allergic to him) - Winky had stopped eating and had dropped half his weight. The weight-loss thing was intentional but then he stopped eating completely and the vet pronounced he had this liver problem and that potential problem and my son, being a poor University student, couldn't face Winky dying and knew that sometimes mom does things.

So, Winky arrived in my bedroom -- again. This time the poor cat was puking water 3-4 times a day, would barely move. I slid my dog door shut because Winky can't live outdoors while my other cats have pottied outside for years. Winky was then confronted with two old male cats and a large dog. He knew my dog well having grown up with him. But, the cats... oh my...

I told my son he wouldn't be able to help himself -- that Winky was terribly depressed because he was alone almost all the time. My old mean cats were his medicine. My room became caterwauling hell for awhile. Did I mention I'm allergic to cats? -- particularly Siamese? BAH!!!

My son would come in here on tippy-toes and sit at the edge of a chair and over the next week he saw his cat moving around - then eating - then fighting and all the time WATCHING the other cats. As you might imagine my cats were none to pleased with this young interloper and they told him so frequently. As Winky discovered, he was younger and bigger and stronger than either of them - Ah hah!

So, Winky isn't too happy with me having OTHER cats in here. My cats aren't too happy with having Winky in here. My poor dog does his best to avoid accidentally being close to an erupting fight -- Winky expresses his growing dominance by laying ON TOP my feet.

So, weekends have Chester trying to eat my face while I sleep and Winky keeping a close eye on the primo location (my feet where 3 rooms are visible) Whiner sits on my chair and rumbles.

Winky -- he is getting fatter again. I need to switch up the cheap food for better and less tasty fare. He got over all those problems the vet charged $400 to diagnose.

My son knows I did something. He isn't sure what - he isn't sure he ever wants to really know but he happily plays with Winky and he cleans up the litter box (our current trade) Soon, maybe this summer, he will finish his apartment renovation and find a second cat for Winky to love and hate. He used to have a cat named Charlie who died about six months before Winky got sick.

Until then, my bedroom is the hub of activity with three ornery cats, a dog with a permanent split on one leg and a visiting dog from my housemate who is a food whore and likes to chase cats. Everyone comes in here. I need my sleep. ::sneeze::