Monday, July 27, 2015

The Water-Wake-Up Incident

I was sure Clara was going to be steaked this morning, but so far her only punishment has been having her name loudly shrieked. Which, frankly, is the lamest punishment ever invented. I mean, it’s never happened to me, but I seriously doubt that, if it were, it would have any impact whatsoever.

After Clara successfully got the One to get out of bed on Saturday by spilling a water glass on her head, she has attempted this maneuver several more times. 

Each time (prior to this morning), the One heard her scooting the glass across the headboard and put her hand up to stop the imminent shower before it happened. Clara assumed the hand was there to rub her cow-face and forgot about the water glass, so nothing exciting happened at all.

Look at her trying to look all innocent.
She is not innocent. She's a menace.
A bovine menace.
But this morning at about 5:30, the One must have been in a deep sleep because Clara managed to push the water glass all the way across the headboard and tip it over. Cold water cascaded across the pillows, the bed, and the One’s head and body. Fortunately, I was sleeping at the end of the bed; if any of that water had reached me, I would have sliced Clara’s throat open with my razor-sharp claws . . . or at least punched her in the face.

I have never seen the One move that fast. Ever. 

This was when the shriek occurred. 

Nick was excited because he thought she was going to get up and take all the sheets and blankets off the bed and then put new ones on – he loves helping her make the bed – but instead she just scooted over to the very edge of the mattress and tried to go back to sleep.

A queen can dream

It didn’t work. The alarm went off soon after, and she got up and got ready to go to the job that she claims is important, even though I’ve never seen her smile when talking about it. Not once.

Fortunately, I did not have to get up and get ready to go anywhere, because I am royal.

Perhaps she will execute Clara when she gets back to the palace tonight. A queen can dream.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Clara still can't have half my food.

This morning, the One did not get up and pay attention to me at her usual time. Something about a "Saturday," which is apparently a euphemism for "day Nora doesn't get fed at her usual time." Not that this was the first Saturday we've encountered. It happens routinely. But a queen is only born with so much patience, and mine has run out.

This is what it looks like when a queen dies
of boredom. Or starvation. I haven't decided which.

Fortunately, I have several minions at my disposal. Plus Katherine, but she's not useful in any way. I announced that I would give half my squishy food to anyone (other than Katherine, obviously) who convinced the One to get up.

I hate Katherine.

Usually, when faced with a challenge, Fairbanks is ready to jump up and pee on something, which pretty much guarantees action on the part of the One. But he just opened one eye and muttered something about waking him when it was time to go outside and patrol his territory (he was clearly half asleep or he would have noticed his error - there is no territory that belongs to him; duh). It didn't seem wise to bother him again; he's ferocious when he wants to be.

Do not disturb.

To my surprise, Clara the Cow took action! Apparently she believed me when I offered half my squishy food to the victor (I told you she's stupid)!

Clara summarily jumped onto the headboard of the bed and knocked the One's half-full water glass onto the bed with her front paw! [Editor's note: True story.] It was magnificent! The One got out of bed immediately. I had no idea Clara had it in her.

It seems Clara may be more of an ally than I thought.

Then again . . . I've heard there's a cow disease that's highly contagious. I better keep my distance.

Steer clear - could be catching.