My desk at home is in a closet off the side of our living room. We built a shelf over it for storage, which the cat loves.
For months after we built it, she’d stare up at it and meow. It’s too high to jump to by herself, which is a source of unending frustration for her.
Sometimes, when I’m working, she’ll climb up my chair or jump onto my desk, and meow until I give her attention. Last night when she did this, I picked her up and put her on the shelf.
Q: “Easiest way to get a little peace and quiet.”
Me: “Yep.”
Q: “Just don’t forget to pull your chair out so she can get down.”
That’s right – it’s hard for her to jump down from the shelf by herself. Usually, when she’s up there, I leave the closet doors open and arrange my chair so she can jump down easily.
Of course, last night, I totally forgot. I crawled into bed, and after lying there for about 10 minutes, realized.
Me: “Damn, I forgot to put the chair out for the cat.”
Q: “Ah, I’ll do it. You stay in bed. I’m just about to get up.”
Then, a CRASH. We looked at each other.
Q: “I’ll go check.” He gets up, walks into the living room, and I hear her give him a terse “meow”. He comes back: “She’s okay.”
Then we hear the footsteps. She walks into the bedroom, her claws clacking on the floor.
You guys, for a second there, I was actually scared. She was coming to punish us. We had forgotten to serve her in the way she wants to be served.
She jumped up on the bed and meowed at me. I doted: “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” and pet her until she purred and (I hoped) forgave me.
Q: “Honey, I don’t think you have to apologize so much. I don’t think she understands.”
Me: “Oh yes, we are on thin ice right now.”
All was well, until I accidentally stepped on her paw this morning when she was reminding me to feed her. I swear, I was just trying to get the milk and her breakfast out of the fridge.
Uh-oh.
