The guests are all gone and I'm alone at last. Well, alone with a large, happy dog and two curious cats. The truth is, I'll never be alone again since I have pets. My little shadows trail after me from room to room, apparently compelled to see what I'm doing every second of the day. It's a little weird. I always thought dogs were the ones who followed you around. Turns out it's cats. Dixie, the dog, sleeps like the dead for a large portion of the day. Nothing short of an arriving army seems to rouse her once she's settled in for a good snooze. The cats, on the other hand, can appear to be sound asleep as I move quietly from one room to another. But they magically show up in the doorway, silent and curious, little green eyes staring up at me, trying to decide if they should come in or just watch.
I wouldn't mind this if they would at least let me go to the bathroom alone. Gosh, no. That's the most interesting thing anyone in the house does, apparently. There you are, trying to have a quiet pee, door closed (though not locked -- the lock is kaput). Suddenly, the door creaks open and the cats barge in. "Hi! Hi! Hi!" they say, winding around my feet, "What's going on? What's going on? What is this? Is this water dripping from the faucet? Look, this is water dripping from the faucet! Get it!" and so on. Keiko is especially keen on climbing into my clothing and having a bat at Natasha from her swell hiding place. Just try reading a magazine while your pants mysteriously battle themselves.
You'd think they'd want to avoid the tub, since that's where they get bathed. However, since this is also where the local bug population enters the house, it's one of Keiko's favorite hunting grounds. Many is the time I've snuck into the bathroom, hoping to brush my teeth in peace, and found Keiko stalking a hopper. Hop, hop, pounce, crunch. Yuck. I can't quite get in the mood to brush while that's going on.
So where are they while I write? One is up on top of the Regency romances, having a bath with great unconcern. The other is draped over the monitor, tail occasionally switching across the screen and puffing up hugely from the static electricity. Later, we'll all have a game of "Watch Mom Fix Food We Can't Have" followed by "Beg In Piteous Squeals To Be Let Outside". I admit, I let my cats go out in the enclosed backyard, even though I worry about the neighborhood dogs a bit. They need the fresh air, and grass to eat, and birds to watch, and the change of pace.
And I really need to brush my teeth in peace once in a while. Even the Cat Mom has to have some personal space, man.