I Think My Cat Wants to Marry Me (and Other Strange Tales)

It’s her house. We’re just living in it.

Mona the Cat is progressing quite nicely. She still likes to try and “nurse” me, but not quite as much. I’ve been discouraging it. Some of her favorite pastimes are catching bugs, staring out the screen door, and getting her belly rubbed.

However, she has also taken to doing crazier things since she has been getting used to us. At first, she was just a polite houseguest—relatively quiet and reserved. Many kisses later, she realized that she had our love and devotion in her furry grasp, and she began to test the waters.

She runs frantically around the house whenever someone is in the shower, and most of the time she goes in this cycle:  sprinting to the kitchen, sprinting back and throwing herself violently between the shower curtain and the clear plastic liner, poking her head out a few times to see if she gets wet, and then jumping down and sprinting back to the kitchen. It’s all in her little kitty mind.

Mona also likes to drink from any beverage that’s set on any surface. While I’m sitting in bed watching my stories, I catch her acting like she’s going to sit in my lap and then casually sauntering over to the nightstand to drink out of my water glass like a common criminal. I tell her, “Mona, you are better than that. I will get a crystal goblet for you to drink water from if it’s that important to you. But that’s MY water.” If I leave the room for two seconds, she immediately goes to the water glass. It’s not like I don’t give her fresh water everyday, I do! I think she wants her own water in every room—We should have named her J-Lo for being so high maintenance. It’s not just water though. While Logan and I are eating dinner (like a normal married couple with no kids, on the couch in front of 30 Rock), she does the same thing with the Coke cans on the coffee table. She’s a regular schmoozer.

However, the other night she did the weirdest thing ever. After I came home from work, it was sweatpants-time, so I changed clothes, took off my jewelry, got a couple of Oreos and regressed into a vegetative state. I had been sitting in bed with her for a few minutes, but then I went to the living room to talk to Logan about something. There we were, sitting on the couch, when Mona comes in with something in her mouth. She’s obviously struggling with it, so I think she has a bug of some sort. She drops whatever it is on the floor and I see a shimmer—a gleam, if you will. I catch my breath and then proceed to have a mild heart attack as I realize that it’s my ENGAGEMENT RING. I leap over to her, snatch the ring up off the floor and immediately run to the bedroom to make sure she hasn’t already swallowed my wedding band. Fortunately, it was safe and sound on my nightstand.

I guess she was trying to drink out of my water glass again when she saw something else she liked more. This girl likes diamonds, apparently. Talk about high maintenance. Either that, or she was proposing her love to me by bringing me something she knew was mine.

Needless to say, I will be keeping my rings in a different place from now on.

In other news:

Nothing says “appetizing” like ketchup.

I had a great time hanging out with Logan’s family last weekend, even if we had to cut it short so we could drive back in time for work.

We always have a good time with them, but this find by my sister-in-law Leslee made it even better. That’s right. Ketchup-flavored potato chips for only—what’s that?—TWO DOLLARS. Yes, they were purchased, and yes, it was worth it. No one really liked them except for me, though. Suckers!

Also, the phantom rodent has struck again. This time, he/she actually sat in one of my paper bowls on the desk I have in the corner and gnawed on the packaging of my granola. I know it sat in the bowl because there were little hairs and black specks of grime and destruction in it. Sick. Then, he/she got into two packets of Emergen-C and an oatmeal bar. It tried to drag the oatmeal bar under the door of the closet (which is where I presume it’s coming from, because it also scratched up some of the carpet trying to fit its fat self under the door), but I guess it wouldn’t go through. On top of everything else, it wandered all over my office, because it left poop all over the floor. Poop that was a result of it eating MY FOOD. Get a job, moocher! I know these times are hard, but there’s got to be low unemployment ratings for rats. You guys are resourceful.

So, like a normal person, I blocked the bottom of the door to the closet with a big heavy roll of paper that I found instead of setting a trap. Maybe I’ll get Logan to come up here and do a more thorough inspection one of these days.

Other than that, Logan and I are just living life and thinking about grad schools. Should he go first? Should I go first? Where should we go? Where do we want to live? What program is best suited to me? I’m in the process of making a monster spreadsheet with schools at the top and factors along the side. And yes, one of the factors is “Are there places to climb here?” It’s important.

I’ll leave you with this link:  http://ergofabulous.org/luther/

You’re welcome. Have a great Thursday! It’s TV night!

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2 thoughts on “I Think My Cat Wants to Marry Me (and Other Strange Tales)

  1. Thanks for posting a pic of my grandkitty! can hardly wait to meet her! You should have taken the Ketchup chips with you since you liked them!! Sorry I didn’t send them with you! See you guys next weekend!

  2. I don’t think the nursing thing is something to view as perverted. My male cat does it too. He’s 7 years old or so. He seems to do it when he’s settling down for a nice nap, whether next to someone or not. I put a blanket under his paws so he doesn’t scratch me or the couch. I think the repetitive pawing motion brings back happy memories… Of course, who know what they’re really thinking! :)

    – Katie

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