Punctuated Pandemonium

Dear John,

 

You didn't come talk to me last night, so I have to assume that you expect me to act like a grown-up and learn to know my own limits without your supervision and advice. I'm beginning to think that this whole adulthood thing is overrated.

 

If you had come to see me last night, you'd have had a hard time finding me under all the critters. I don't know what got into the cats. Jethro slept cuddled up with me, which is normal for him. But the cats spent the entire night sleeping on me, and they've never done that before. Hunter slept on my side - whichever side was up at the time - and Abby slept draped across my knees. I got up three times to go to the bathroom. I had to wake them up and move them every time. They both went to the bathroom with me, then went under the bed for fifteen or twenty minutes, them jumped up on me and settled into their previous positions. I have no idea what that was all about.

 

The alarm was set for 6:30, and for some reason we all woke up at 6:00. Jethro and I stayed in bed, and the cats spent the half-hour rampaging around the house, chasing each other at full speed and full volume. It's amazing how much noise two cats can make when they're running on laminate floors. And Abby is a vocal little thing. I can't tell if she's trying to talk, sing, yodel, or yowl, but she succeeds in making an amazing array of noises.

 

We'll see what happens tonight. After last night, I believe I'm prepared for anything they could serve up. Lately we seem to be specializing in pandemonium, punctuated with brief periods of group cuddling. If you come to visit, feel free to join us in the mammal mound. There is always a spot just for you.

 

Adore you,

Joan.