CCL > n+1 cats, where n = the number of adults in the household.
We have four adults in the household and five cats, therefore we are not greater than the equation and we just barely slide in under the radar. This morning, however, I felt like a CCL. I wake up every morning because tiny girl bladder says I must go sometime between 3 and 4. So I woke up at 4. I heard something fall downstairs. Then George came upstairs and knocked over a glass in the bathroom. Then he got in bed to cuddle. Then he vomited everywhere over the side of the bed, having eaten like a piggy apparently. Then we realized that he had knocked over two glasses downstairs and the dining room floor was soaked. Then Peekaboo started randomly burying things, as though they were dirty, all over the bedroom carpet.
Then we decided you know what? Sleep just ain't happening. So Aaron and I are up now. We got out of bed and started the coffee at 4:45 this morning. It's going to be a very long day - Anna's bat mitzvah is tomorrow morning and we're very excited, but that means that we're down on some sleep on an important day. The good news is we will be able to sleep better tonight because of it, one would hope.
I decided this post would be a good opportunity to introduce my cats, as they may feature in my future writing.
The cats of characters:George - 3 years old orange Maine Coon mix cat. We got him when he was a wee baby - we saw him and his brother, Fred, at 6 weeks old and fell in love. He grew up in my bra, and became extremely clingy after his brother died a young death. Because he grew up essentially napping in my cleavage, he is the friendliest, lovingest cat you can imagine. He thinks he is a human child. He sleeps in our arms, he is alert, he greets guests politely. He's not the smartest of cats, and he is so large that he forgets to get his whole body in the litter box and winds up going right in front of it, thinking that if his front paws are in, he must be good, right? Still, he is our baby and we love him. He is a giant beastie.
Lucas - 3 years old, 2 months older than George. After Fred died, we knew we wanted a companion for George so we found Lucas. A man had seen a kitten. The family had been feeding him, a kitten under their porch, white bread. Just white bread. So the man took him in, gave him real food, and posted on Craigslist looking for a family to adopt him. We took him, and he's a very regal and good cat. He loves Aaron especially. He's black and white and silky and fat. I imagine because food was scarce in his developmental years, he has very little restraint now. He's highly intelligent, and he's highly demanding. He likes nothing more than to go outside and stretch on a warm sidewalk, nibble some grass, and come back inside. He's the most cat-like of our cats.
Shooey and Peekaboo - Shooey and Peekaboo are 8 year old black male siblings. A friend of mine at work, two jobs ago, had gotten remarried and her stepson, it turned out, was violently allergic to cats. She had raised Shooey and Peekaboo from babies, but it's really hard to rehome black animals. Black dogs, black cats - nobody wants them. I said I would foster them and then try to rehome them, but we wound up loving them and keeping them. Both are lightly neurotic in their own delightful ways. Shooey likes to claim multiple chairs at once by keeping one paw on any chair near him that his body can't touch. He is the least likely cat to spill water. He is not the bottom cat in the house. Peekaboo is the bottom cat in the house. Sometimes he takes his food out of the bowl and eats it off the floor. He loves to cuddle in bed, but will move when George comes to bed for the night. The problem is that he doesn't know how to cuddle, he gets so happy that he walks away while being cuddled, and he detests eye contact. He will slide up to you and put his head on your shoulder and rub chins with you though, and is extremely affectionate and loving. Both black cats have extremely loud purr-boxes.
Regan - Miss Regan is Tara's cat, the only girl cat in the household, and she does not like men. She is a stately old maiden, affectionate and warm with people she knows well and a lump under the bedsheets when anyone she doesn't know is even in the house. She's the most fearful cat I've ever seen - but in her home element is happy and has George as her fluffy boytoy who just wants to play with her. I think she's got the good end of the stick, with four boys to boss around.
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