Home of the Bellingwood Series – Nammynools

Sleeping and Cats … Nope.

But he's so cute when he's asleep.
But he’s so cute when he’s asleep.

I understand that last night’s post was rudely interrupted by words. Good heavens, Diane, you are easily distracted.


I’m writing like a mad fiend tonight. The book refuses to end. These silly characters have too much to say and won’t let me shut them up. But I have to finish it tonight. I have to. Okay … I want to. I really want to.

And the stupid murderer decided to spew more words out there, too. Just shut up and go peacefully here, will you?

TB has been quite needy the last few days, not allowing me to get much sleep. Because Earl is so desperate to be close to him, TB no longer sleeps at the end of the bed, but has found his way to the pillow beside me. I’m fine with that for the most part, but because he’s now so close to me, I think he senses that moment when I’m about to drift away. And he can’t stand it. Every time I do, he meows at me.

Those danged ‘meows.’ I swear that cats use that tone and pitch and sound to elicit a programmed response. You know, the one that forces me into taking care of every cat in a ten mile radius. I can’t resist that sound. It’s pathetic and sound and so needy. I react.

TB learned from the very beginning that when he found something that made me react, whether it was good or bad, he needed to repeat it over and over in order to keep my attention on him. Consequently, I have nothing on my desk top. It is always cleared. I no longer keep a trash can at my desk because TB discovered that I reacted when he tipped it over. The other reaction that TB goes for is when he scratches at the window beside the bed. A cat tree sits under the window so they can look out at the world. That’s all fine and good, except for TB, who will scratch at it until I wake up and turn over. Even if I yell at him or shake the cat tree to force him off, he soon returns and tries again.

The other morning I caught him pawing at the window, then stopping to look over at me just to see if I was watching him. Really, cat? I keep thinking that maybe if I close my eyes tightly and try to relax, I can out-wait him. He can’t paw at the window that long, can he? You bet he can. And TB has learned that though I use my big angry voice on him when he’s pushed me too far, it doesn’t mean much. It’s not like I’m going to do anything horrible to him. Dang it. I’ve lost control (like I ever had it).

So anyway, back to the meowing as I drift off to sleep. It happened enough times in a row that I’m certain he can sense when my body crosses from being mostly awake to mostly asleep. And when I’m mostly asleep, I’m not paying attention to him.

Now, we’re all fully aware that TB is not fond of full-on petting or hugging or kissing. He’ll bite you for that behavior. Okay, he’ll bite me. He just wants me to be aware of his closeness to me and waiting for him to do whatever it is he wants while I stay awake.

This morning went over the top, though. I had finally fallen asleep after a long night of writing. When I’m at deadline and the story is racing around in my head, I find it nearly impossible to wind down. Between not falling asleep in a timely manner and TB wanting me to be awake on the other end of my *night*, I’m exhausted around here. I know that at some point, I will have to sleep whether he’s bothering me or not. But that point hasn’t arrived yet. And the kittens? Oh, they’re just hanging out. If I’m up and moving, they want to play. If I’m lying down, they are fully prepared to snuggle in for some more sleep.

This morning, TB had decided I’d been asleep long enough (two hours should just about do it, right?). I was sound asleep when all of a sudden I leaped awake because … TB was standing on the pillow beside my head and chose to meow right in my ear.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Why are you … Oh. Damn. It’s you again. What in the h-e-double toothpicks are you doing to me?” He had obviously tried to get me up and in his frustration at my lack of attention, climbed up to my head, found my ear and delivered his pitiful cry. I turned over, put my arms around him and tugged him in close to me. That was fine for just long enough for me to drift back to sleep and he wriggled out from under my arms, jumped up to the ledge of the cat tree and pawed at the window, while glancing my way to find out if I’d wake up enough to react.

By that time, he had me fully awake and I sat up on the edge of the bed. Whoops. Gravity. Time for a bathroom run. This is another fun event in the life of Diane and TB. When my feet hit the ground, there is generally a big, black and white cat on the floor where I want to walk. He must go ahead of me, stretching out so as to slow me down. I try to walk around him, he ducks and weaves. I wait for him to choose which way around the table he’ll take and I’ll go the other way, but he’s always at the doorway of the bathroom before me and stands there, in my way. Yep, I push his little butt with my foot.

We get back to bed and the process starts right away. I try to fall back to sleep, he doesn’t want me to go yet. In an hour or so, if I’ve managed to do it right and drift away, he’s back at the window, wanting me to wake up and love him some more.

Of course, once I’m up for the day, TB is quite content to sleep for hours under the covers of the bed.

I certainly hope this is all about changes in barometric pressure and not the beginning of some new life experience for him. Argh.

Book 15 will soon be written, edited and off to my beta reader / editors. At least I’ll have that stress out of my life for a couple of weeks. Then maybe I can take lots of naps and re-gather my strength for the books to come.

And … I’m still not talking about favorite foods. Hmmm … maybe I should give it up. Nah. I’m tenacious. There’s always tomorrow.


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