Pardon My French

While I have always appreciated a good night’s rest, it was only until very recently have I have come to understand what it means to be exhausted.

Juggling both my new, full-time job and my part-time barista job became very challenging. I wasn’t getting enough sleep at night, let alone any free time to myself. Real, full days off were few and far between. (*NOTE: I’m not complaining. After being unemployed for a time, I certainly appreciate the opportunity to work.) Our time spent back in Michigan and the few days I had off for Thanksgiving were certainly welcomed.

That leads me to this morning. Fast asleep, comfortable and probably dreaming, something stirred me awake. It took a moment to process that I could feel something sharp digging into the top of my head. My cat, Kiwi, was gnawing on my scalp.

Kiwi is a strange little animal: She makes chirping noises, collects and then burrows small objects under the throw rug in my living room, puts pop bottle lids in Phil’s shoes, opens closet and cupboard doors without going inside. The most bizarre thing she does, though, happens almost every night while I sleep. She’ll climb to the top my tower floor lamp and then squawk like a rooster until I wake up.

I’ve always attributed her strange behaviors to the fact that we were brought together under pretty traumatic circumstances. (She was a very tiny kitten, crying on the steps of the Central Michigan University Charles V. Park Library during the iciest part of February.) We have reason to think that no one (her mother) ever taught her how to be a cat.

The whole biting the scalp thing, though? That’s new. I did a little poking around the internet on various animal forums, but didn’t find anything helpful. I’m open to ideas if anyone out there has any.

On a different note, I stumbled upon (literally) a website that featured some very fancy and expensive dog houses. If only the fairy tale castle didn’t cost $6,200.

In an alternate universe, where pet castles didn’t cost nearly a half of a year’s rent, and my cat didn’t bite me, Kiwi would be a princess in a pretty, pink castle.

You know, I think I would welcome Ru Paul’s philosophies to the White House.

He’s all about respect and love for yourself, Ru Paul could bring art and home ec. back in schools via drag challenges and every State of the Union address would end with “don’t f*** it up!”