It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing

My cat Max is a routine kind of guy.  Four o’clock in the morning is the time he thinks we should be up, 8-3 is nap time,  4-7 in the afternoon is for food scrounging and playing with the boys, and 11:00 p.m. is when the sure-fire crazy shows up.

I don’t know what gets a hold of him late at night but he starts getting that glassy look in his eyes kinda’ like when my kids have to go without electronics and he starts making laps around the house at breakneck speed, switching directions every so random often, pouncing on anything that twitches (usually Craig’s feet) and, for his grand finale, tries to climb into, not on, INTO the chandelier that hangs over the dining room table.

Those are peaceful moments.

Last night I thought I’d outsmart him by turning out the lights in the living room and going to bed early but all he did was move the wild rumpus to our room.  He was darting in and out from under the bed, jumping into the laundry basket and tearing around the tub and since this is normal for him, I ignored him and started getting ready for bed.  Now, let me let you in on a little secret.  Max isn’t the only one with a routine around here.  I know it’s hard to believe but I have certain things that I do in certain order before going to sleep and one of them involves the last trip to the bathroom so I don’t have to get up in the middle of the night because monsters still live under the bed. So I was, how shall I put this delicately, somewhat indisposed, when I heard this horrific hissing and yeowling and I looked over to see my cat SWINGING UPSIDE DOWN OVER THE BATHTUB BY HIS TAIL.

He’d been playing with the window blind cord and how he managed to get it tied around his tail I don’t even know.  I got over to him as quickly as I could, GIVEN MY SITUATION, and realized that extricating him from his predicament was going to be a little trickier than I thought because even though he was stuck hanging upside down, Numbskull was too mad to let anyone near him and clawed wildly if I got within a foot.  I looked around for something to protect myself but I had done all the laundry because I’m TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF and if that isn’t an excuse to go back to my old way of life, I don’t know what is.  I had to get towels from the linen closet; meanwhile, poor Max was swinging low, sweet chariot, growling louder than a Harley at Bike Week.

I wrapped three layers of towels around my arms and lifted him to take the pressure off his backside and then had to wrestle with him to try to get him still long enough to untie the cord from his tail and I think we all can get a visual about how that went.  FINALLY, we managed to come to an understanding (meaning I pretty much had to sit on him) and he and the cord parted ways.  Max shot out of the room, I collapsed in a trembling, traumatic heap on the bed, and we didn’t see each other for the rest of the night.

He did settle down enough, though, to thank me.

At 4:00 this morning when he woke me up.

Have a nice day.


5 responses to “It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing

  1. I can picture it clearly! You can look back and laugh but at the time, I’m sure it was anything but funny. Glad you both made it through relatively unscathed.

  2. Soooooo wishing you had had a camera nearby! But this is why I always advocate getting two cats at once- they Need To Chase and Hunt and it’s easier if they take it out on each other. It’s not too late to add another little one to your already large and crazy home;-)

  3. Oh yes, it took me some time after reading your post to stop laughing so hard and let the emergency inhaler work. I love crazy cat stories.

  4. Love it! So funny! We have some crazy cat stories around here too!

  5. But perhaps it will be the last time he ever enters the bathroom?

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