The other day I walked into my closet and heard a strange noise. My pants were purring. It took me a moment to realize that my garments should not be making sounds. Then I parted my pants, and, sure enough, one of the cats had taken up residence on the shelf behind my pants, where he could liberally shed all over my clothes.
My closet shelves behind my clothes are a popular hangout for my three cats. I wouldn’t mind so much except for the fact I routinely find myself unintentionally wearing a fur jacket. Generally it’s not a big deal. That’s what lint rollers are for. (Seriously, you thought they were for lint?) But on my way to church yesterday, I glanced down at the right arm of my jacket sleeve to find it covered in cat hair. That sleeve obviously hung toward the shelf. The other sleeve was clean. This was rather embarrassing as I didn’t have my lint roller with me and I didn’t particularly want to show up to church with mis-matched sleeves. Furiously, I attempted to brush off cat hair while at a stop light. This not only was ineffective, but it annoyed my teenager. I’m not sure why it annoyed him, other than the fact that everything I do annoys him. He felt obligated to point out the second the light turned green, berating me for my distraction in trying to de-fur myself and failing to gun the engine. Geesh! I love backseat drivers in the front seat.
The other irritating habit the cats have besides shedding all over my clothes is pushing anything off the closet shelves they don’t want in their way. I frequently walk into the closet to find shoes, boxes, bags, purses, or other items that previously lived on the shelves rudely shoved onto the floor. This would be a mere minor aggravation except for one other objectionable habit the cats have. They pee on things that are left on the floor. It’s particularly exasperating when they are the ones who are responsible for said items being on the floor in the first place. But they don’t discriminate. They pee on things my son leaves on the floor, as well. Despite being repeatedly told to pick his things up off the floor, and despite going ballistic when he finds his things smelling like cat urine, for some reason, his brain still fails to get the connection. Geesh! You’d think he had to do the laundry!
You might wonder why I put up with a creature who complicates my life in so many ways. It’s simple. The law says I’m legally required to care for my son until he’s eighteen. Oh, wait. You meant the cats. Well, that’s simple, too. They bring me such joy!