Okie dokey. Start here and work your way to this post. At one point I’m going to get to the point on why I started this whole thing, but it won’t be here, or the next post. Probably the one after that. The next post is going to be about HorrorFind.
We last left off with Nicki stating she was going to take Mr. Jingles with her when she moved out.
Well, Nicki found a nice new apartment (or condo or whateverthefuck) and she broke the news to me: they only allowed a maximum of two cats. She already had two. Throw Dumb Ass in the mix, and that’s three.
So, for the first time in his life, Dumb Ass was going to be exclusively taken care of by me. I didn’t have any beef with that, as he doesn’t annoy me like most cats. I took it in stride.
The first night Nicki was gone, I didn’t know exactly what to do as far as the cat was concerned, as he had pretty much slept in her room every night since she had moved in. So I just left my bedroom door open, in case he wanted to sleep in my bed. I honestly didn’t expect him to. You have to keep in mind I’ve never done anything with that cat except pet him on occasion and play with him using a laser pointer (and that was more for my amusement than his). I had just gotten settled and turned on the TV when BAM, he jumped up on the bed. He gave me a cursory glance, then started kneading the blanket with his front paws (although I’ve never seen a cat knead with back paws). Then, after a bit of that, he hopped up on my stomach and started kneading full force. I had to pause the TV because I couldn’t see it. Eventually, he stopped kneading, circled my chest/stomach a few times, then settled on my chest and went to sleep.
This has been his routine since Nicki moved out. Every night. It’s changed a little bit since the first night. For the first few days, he would sleep until I rolled over on my side, then he’d get up and lay down by the end of the bed. Now, though, he’ll get on my chest and hang out for a bit. But the moment I turn off the TV, he moseys on down to the end of the bed. I guess he figured out that I sleep on my side.
At first I was a little perplexed on what the deal was. He has never slept in the same bed as me (not counting when I was with the ex), much less on me. But then I thought about it, and figured I was just a substitute for Nicki. I felt used, dirty and cheap. I was sloppy seconds. Stupid cat.
Then, one day when I was talking to Nicki (most likely over email, since I hate talking on the phone), and Dumb Ass came up on conversation — meaning Nicki asked how he was doing.
“He’s doing fine, I guess. He’s eating. But he sleeps on me every night. It’s weird.”
“What do you mean he sleeps on you? You mean with you?”
“No,” I said. “He sleeps on me.”
“On you? He never slept on me!”
“What do you mean? He slept with you every night.”
“Yeah,” she said. “At the end of the bed. He never slept on me. What the fuck ever.”
I don’t get it. Stupid cat.