Sunday, March 23, 2008

Mom vs. Cat: The epic 2 am battle

No door will be closed to my cats.

This is most thoroughly demostrated by the soon-to-be-epic "Battle for the Bed - 2008"

My mother does not want cats in her bedroom. She tolerates them in the house and, truth be told, has become quite attached to my two: Miss Birdie and Mr. Trout.

The Battle for the Bed began at approximately 2 am. There was a breach of bedroom security when Mom didn't quite get the door closed. This gave Mr. Trout the long-awaited opportunity for invasion. How he discovered the breach is unknown. During my mother's visits he generally spends the night on the bathmat in the spare bedroom, just beside her door. Conjecture has it that he was making a random patrol when he found the crack in Mom's security.

Taking advantage of the chance, Mr. Trout jumped onto the bed, thus alerting Mom to his presence. On the previous day we had been out running errand after errand and Mom was exhausted. This was her only explanation for what happened next: She decided to ignore him in favor of sleep. This overconfidence gave Mr. Trout the advantage and, as he is accustomed to doing when content, he began to tap his tail. Mr. Trout is a big cat. This tapping is actually more of a whapping. The bed is a traditional box-spring and mattress affair and the whapping can cause quite the vibration.

The psychological part of the battle had begun. Being still exhausted, Mom somehow got him to retreat to the foot of the bed and, feeling overconfident, went back to sleep. Not content with a partial victory, Mr. Trout creeped up and decided to snuggle.

This foothold then gave him the upper-hand and the tables turned in his favor. It was now time to get to the pillow. No, not just the pillow. He wanted to take the entire battle. Total domination or nothing! He craftily marched up to the top of his head, hunkered down and, horrors, began grooming her hair.

Thus, the battle was on. She got up and opened the door and told him to get out. Mr. Trout did not blink. He defended the pillow. Remembering the phrase that works for me, she said "Scoots! Scooter you!" Feeling a need for escalation, Mr. Trout retreated under the bed.

At this point, Mom's superior fire power with pillow-tossing won out and he was sent packing back to his original position. At some point during the ensuing hours, Mr. Trout made a feeble attempt at laying siege to the bedroom.

By morning, the siege was neatly defeated when mother stepped over his sleeping body on her way to the kitchen for breakfast.

Only history will tell us the full impact of this memorable battle. After Mom's departure for her home in the north, the bedroom was retaken by the cats and is currently ruled by Miss Birdie and guarded by Mr. Trout.

1 comment:

zirelda said...

Love it! Long live Mr Trout!