The Cat and the Heat Wave

Nathan think I am lying to him about the weather.

He cannot believe that the air-conditioned bedroom is truly the only comfortable space in the apartment, and so, every few hours, he marches to the door and meows loudly, demanding access to the rest of his domain. Perhaps five minutes later, he meows loudly from the other side of the door, demanding to be allowed back in—hotter than when he left, and somehow more indignant as well.

Nathan’s “What the hell, mom” face.

To be clear, I am just as pissed as the cat is about the heat. Almost as disbelieving, too, despite the fact that I am the only one in our shared home with access to weather reports, as well as the cognitive capacity for number sense.

Numbers which—if my sense is correct—hate me right now.

Just not as much as my cat does.

Once back in the cool, Nath presents me with a non-negotiable choice: play a game in which I flip his fishing-pole toy over his head—with consistent enough aim that he can catch its multicolored strip of stretchy fabric without getting up, but not such consistent aim that he gets bored—over and over until I fear my arm may fall off…or listen to the rhythmic bleat of his complaints.


[Alice puts down the fishing pole for one moment.]


[Cat looks at mom and blinks.]


[Cat looks at mom and blinks.]


[Cat looks at mom and blinks.]


[Cat looks at—well, you get the picture.]

This has been going on for the last two hours. My arm is barely still hanging from my shoulder, held on MacGyver-style with bubble gum and three paper clips. I am typing one-handed, with all the ingenuity of a mouth-breather accessing amateur porn on an internet dial-up but none of the orgasmic payoff.

I do feel almost guilty complaining, since some of tonight’s piss-and-vinegar reflects Nathan’s recovery from his second bout of what-had-better-not-become-an-annual-affair pancreatitis. After yesterday’s growl-fest at the vet’s office, I am quite pleased that he is feeling so much better today.

Almost really.

Oh the humanity

I have told him most summer puking is caused not by hairballs but by excessive squawking at one’s mother. He does not yet appear convinced.

Please believe me on this, Cat, if nothing else:

If I could bring the bathroom sink into the bedroom for you to nap in, I absolutely would. Even if only to quit your MRAW’ing.


And to possibly buy me enough time to re-reattach this arm.

33 thoughts on “The Cat and the Heat Wave

  1. Poor misunderstood darling… Nathan I mean. =) Sounds like you have your hands full with that one, or should I say hand in anticipation of your arm falling off from cat games? =) Try to stay cool… it is a losing battle at this point, but only 3 weeks until September, so there is hope. =)

    Oh, and PLEASE write a book, I swear I will but the full-cost hardcover version before you get your spot on “Ellen” to discuss the paperback re-release. =)


    1. Tell ya what, babe: I write a book? You get first dibs on an advance copy!

      Provided I can get through the next three weeks without melting like the Wicked Witch with a fire hose turned on her, of course…

      Liked by 1 person

        1. You sure can! Gotta give us a good “how we met” story, though — “so one day I was reading this chick’s blog” lacks a certain pizzazz, doncha think? I’ll let you use your imagination…

          Liked by 1 person

  2. You know the answer right…get some air conditioning into the rest of the house. Nathan knows it’s just that simple, which I think makes more for the disgusted “Oh Mom” look. I don’t suppose he’d go for a stylish, VERY short haircut either, would he? He looks so much like my kitty, although his face is so much younger and mush less jaded than dear old Snowflake. She will be ‘collected’ later today, as Alison puts it, and will now take up residence with Alison at her apartment. Alison lives in an oven as well. put Snowflake demands ice in her water and the bedroom will be dark and cooler with the fan running as we expect lots of heat in the next few weeks too. Would he sleep on a towel with a few of those disposable ice packs underneath—mimic the sink idea maybe. I think Nathan may be a bit too smart for that though.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hildi used to ADORE ice cubes in her water dish. With or without water. Nathan, ever her faithful acolyte, would follow close on her heels, only to be…not even disappointed, just confused. Deeply confused.

      He’d probably sleep on ice packs, if she were here to make it seem cool. Absent that, though? Little man ain’t gonna do nuthin on just my say-so.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. so…if Nathan is a follower not a leader have you tried sleeping on ice-packs? We can start calling you pseudo-Hildi…perhaps he would get on board then 😉


        1. He followed Hildi’s lead like a little sib trying to fit in with the big kids. Me? I am the inescapable mom who waves too embarrassingly much from the carpool line.

          Liked by 1 person

  3. Bored cats and closed doors…oh, the horror!
    I get the persistent kvetching “NOWW” to turn the water on in the bathroom sink. Fresh water in a bowl is simply too plebeian for Henry now. NOWW!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Nathan is adorable. But then I don’t have to listen to his MRAW’ing. I know what that’s like, I have six of the little heathens.
    We have no a/c so every fan in the house is on and there is a cat at every fan, I have small individual fans at all my favorite sitting spots and of course there’s a cat right in front of it blocking the air when I’m trying to type or read.
    Keep the faith, cooler fall weather will soon be here. Big sigh of relief…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Labor Day cannot come soon enough. I am almost ready to have my head cryogenically frozen, with strict instructions that I am not to be revived until scientists have found a cure for summer.

      Nath likes to sit in front of the A/C window unit. Shedding right into the intake vents…

      Liked by 1 person

    1. SQUEE!! ❤ I love the optimism of dogs!

      I am far less of a fan of the optimism and extravagant affection of dogs, however; hence my lifelong commitment to feline curmudgeons.


  5. My boy Argos (Belgian malinois) brings me toys to throw. He carefully positions them against my neck or on my head or my thigh or … wherever, stands back, and watches them roll to the ground and bounce. Then he does it again. And again. And again. It’s especially fun if he can make it bounce on the keyboard. Or in my coffee cup.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. OH Dear, poor Nathan………and you. My cats have the exact opposite, as it is nice and warm inside, surely if the sun is up it is warm outside too…….only to go outside and cry blue murder to come back in as it is winter and quite cold. I get the same what the hell look from my cat. Oh I warned my cat that if he doesn’t stop complaining he’ll get pancreatitis like Nathan……he doesn’t believe me either!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. A cat’s ability to convey scorn at the limitations of us puny humans is boundless, isn’t it? I mean, She Who Controls the Vacuum Cleaner should surely be mighty enough to determine a little thing like weather!

      Liked by 2 people

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