Why won’t cats follow basic instructions?

Cooking has been sporadically non-existent in Mike’s and my lives lately.  We have both been so busy with work that we haven’t had time for much else.  On Friday, Mike came home late.  I did too, but not as late as Mike because he takes the bus from Everett.  He texted me when he was about 15 minutes from home and said he was in the mood for pasta.  Um… ok.  Well, I certainly hadn’t prepared any pasta, but I set to work to scrounge up what I could.  I found tortellini in my freezer, ground beef in my refrigerator, and spaghetti sauce in my cupboard.  That’s all you really need for pasta dishes, right?  🙂  I threw the tortellini on the stove to cook and started browning the ground beef.  I also found a loaf of garlic bread in the freezer.  Bonus!  🙂  As I browed the ground beef, I considered how I should season the pasta.  I had some Italian seasoning… and I was making an Italian dish… so maybe the Italian seasoning had everything in there to season the pasta?  Maybe.  I threw in a good couple of shakes.  Then I found garlic that Mike had used to make chili several days before.  I minced up a couple cloves and threw them in with the pasta sauce… everything’s better with garlic, right???  🙂

Mike texted me 10 minutes later and suggested we go out to Il Fornaio.  Too late, dude!  I’m already in the midst of a flurry of kitchen, pasta-making activity!  When Mike walked in the door, I was almost done with the pasta and the garlic bread was just coming out of the oven.  Perfect timing!  I have to remember that cooking doesn’t have to be difficult… it’s only difficult when I make it into a big production.  So, that is the closest I’ve gotten to cooking the past couple of weeks.  Hopefully when work slows down, I’ll be better about it again, but Mike’s been working late-ish too, so it works out.  I’m not sitting at my apartment impatiently tapping my soup ladle on the stove waiting for him to come home and eat a dinner I’ve slaved over.

The weather here continues to be gorgeous!  75 degrees and sunny.  Part of me wants to go out and enjoy it tonight, but the other part of me is tired and doesn’t want to do anything more energetic than stroking my cat.  Every couple of minutes.  Anything more than that might feel like too much effort.  It will be nice when things slow down at work for Mike and for me.  Then maybe I’ll stop procrastinating on chores around my apartment.  The worst one is taking out the garbage.  It’s really not a very strenuous process.  I take the garbage bag out of the can, tie it, carry it downstairs, put it in the dumpster, and then replace it with a fresh bag in the garbage can.  However, for some reason I have been putting off doing it.  It’s so full right now that I can’t push the cover inwards to put anything else inside… I have to actually take the top off.  It didn’t help that I threw away a gallon jug yesterday… those milk jugs just don’t compress very much… even when you try to squish them.  The other thing that doesn’t compress well is those plastic boxes that salad greens come in.  There’s one of those currently in my trash as well.

One evening this week I was walking home from work, carrying two Whole Foods grocery bags and thinking about nothing in particular when I became aware of a low beeping.  And it was getting louder the closer I got to my apartment building.  The fire alarm!  We’ve had enough false alarms that it never even occurs to me that there could be a real fire anymore (there’s a moral in that somewhere), but I did know that the noise would be horrible for little Piper’s ears so I tore around the corner to the front door of the building and sped up four flights of stairs with my grocery bags.  That, by the way, is an amazing workout if you want to keep your heart healthy.  Two 15lb grocery bags, one in each hand, and four flights of stairs.  It works wonders.  Anyway, I arrived at my apartment panting and sweating.  I threw open the door.  “Piper!  Piper!”  No answer.  She was obviously hiding… probably under the bed.  I grabbed the bed and pulled it away from the wall (dragging your bed around the room is another great workout by the way).  No Piper.  Maybe in the shower?  The alarm usually sounds slightly quieter in the bathroom.  “Piper!  Piper!”  Again, no answer.  And no little Piper in the bathroom.  By this time I was getting worried… where was she?  There just aren’t that many places in my apartment to hide.  Then I remembered the little kitty house she has.  It’s a very small kitty condo that essentially just has two little 8-inch diameter holes in it for her to crawl in.  I ran over to it.  “Piper!”  There was no answering mew, but two big yellow eyes stared back at me from the darkness inside.  “Piper!  Come here!”  I reached my hand in to pull her out.  But Piper would have none of it.  She had apparently determined that the kitty condo was the safest place in the apartment and she wasn’t budging.  The beeping was so loud in my ears I thought I was going to go crazy.  “Piper!”  I shouted.  “Come out of there!”  I finagled my hand into the opening and tried to get my hand around her belly to pull her out.  She braced all four of her paws against the side of the kitty condo near the opening, though, and refused to get out.  After a few minutes of trying unsuccessfully to pull her out, I tipped the kitty condo on its side thinking she’d be forced to fall out onto the bed.  Nope.  Apparently she was still able to keep bracing herself against the wall and defied all laws of gravity by remaining inside the kitty condo.  “Piper!” I shouted again, struggling to get a grip on the kitty condo with one hand and Piper with the other.  “Piper!  Come on!”  I almost got her out once by holding her by the scruff of her neck, but then she wriggled free and her head disappeared back inside the kitty condo.  “Piper!  I’ll take you where it’s quiet!” I shouted.  “Come on!”  Finally, after finagling both my hands into the opening, I was able to grab her by the belly and pull her out.  Her angry mews convinced me that I had a good hold on her.  Breathless and sweaty, I threw her into her cat carrier.  I was almost to my front door when the alarm stopped.  What?  After 15 minutes of struggling with her, I finally prevail and then the alarm finally stops?  Why couldn’t the alarm have stopped 15 minutes earlier to save me frustration and save Piper from trauma… and save both of our eardrums?  I think Piper thinks getting in the cat carrier makes the alarm go off, since it pretty much went off as soon as I’d hooked the latch on the cat carrier.  Piper forgave me, but she was pretty traumatized that evening.  If there’s ever a fire, I’ll probably be found burned to a crisp with my hand inside a charred kitty condo.  Either that, or I’ll just carry the entire kitty condo outside with Piper inside.  That’s actually probably a better plan.  🙂

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Filed under Apartments, Dogs + Cats, Life in Seattle

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