Kitty-Cat Revenge

Oh, what did Damien the Cat From Hell do to me in exchange for a nice warm bath yesterday? He got clingy. Insisted on sleeping on my pillow next to my head or on top of me and purred in my face most of the night, and woke me up stupid-early this morning all disgusting and drooling. I woke up to a pair of walrus fangs of happy-cat slobber about six inches from my face. He apparently knows I can't see crap without my glasses so he helps me out by getting right up to my nose and shrieks, just in case I'm deaf as well as blind.

He's kinda like a disgusting little kid with booger-fingers. I think he knows the drool is vile and I'd rather not have it drip on my head while I sleep, so of course the little bastard's right next to my head. I push him away and there he is, right back in my face again. This went on for a couple of hours this morning before I finally gave up and got out of bed.

The slobbering was the main reason for the bath because he now drools almost constantly. He goes in for a teeth cleaning next week so that should resolve it. Or I'll be making nice little monogrammed dribble bibs for him.

Remember the ancient 1970s SNL skit (Michael Palin hosted) with an old guy with a drool bucket attached to his face? Some sort of Charles Dickens-kinda skit and Palin's job was to empty Dan Akroyd's drool bucket. Whatever. I'll be making one of those for the orange beastie if the vet tells me "he's just old--deal with it!"


Here he is drinking at his private fountain. He pretty much refuses to drink water out of a bowl. He usually sits directly under the faucet and lets the water run all over his chest and front feet. He also likes to drink the water when I'm in the tub (kinky beast) and sometimes he slips and falls in.

That cat just ain't right.