My Bed Partner

If you know me very well, you know I love my sleep. Sleep is very important to everyone's overall health. There are studies that show that most Americans don't get an adequate amount of sleep, and most experts agree you should get 8 hours a night. I do really well on 9.

I realize my sisters (and all other mothers) are probably rolling their eyes at this point. I know, when I took care of Jenn's kids for a week, I didn't get enough sleep either. But I'm single. I have to deal with occasional loneliness, but I get to sleep.

Or so you would think.

I have a darling cat, Sabrina, who is 11 years old. She has lasted longer than any man in my life (excluding you, Daddy), and she is very special to me. She greets me when I come home at night and snuggles with me. She's very loving and has quite a personality. While you make think I'm biased, I've actually had friends of mine who are admittedly dog-only people who have actually agreed that Sabrina is pretty cool, even if she is a cat.

Sabrina has a couple of bad habits, though. For one, she seems to have separation anxiety (diagnosed by Dr. Jenn) and protests my absence by pooping in the front living room. On the one hand, I'm grateful it's not urine, because cat urine is a stink that is difficult to find where they did it and impossible to rid your house of the smell. But...the front living room is supposed to be the "formal" living room. Okay, not that I have much furniture in there (nothing to sit on), but still. It is the first place people walk into. Okay, not many people are walking into it other than me. Let's just say I'm tired of picking up poop everyday.

And before you give me suggestions, believe me, I've tried it. For example:
I've put an extra litter box in the room. She pooped in it once and then pooped around it.
I've sprayed the floor with some kind of avoidance spray. I think I heard her laugh, and she pooped on it anyway.
On Saturday, I actually walked into the room while she was pooping in the corner. "NOOOO!" I yelled at her. She kept looking at me, still hunched over, with that "pushing" expression on her face. "NO, Sabrina! Bad girl! No!" I clapped and yelled. Still pooping. I picked her up and threw her outside. I was so pissed she wasn't even phased by my interruption. (And I thought it was separation anxiety? I was HOME.)

The other bad habit is that she feels the need to wake me during the night to pet her. The poop presents are one thing, but now you're messing with my sleep?!? She will knock anything off my nightstand, swiping it with her paw to hit the wall and onto the floor. So I have removed everything from the nightstand except the lamp. But she stands up on her back paws to rub the side of her face against the lampshade, causing the lamp to wobble and sway. I wake groggily to the thump, thump of the lamp. Or, for variety, she will stretch so her front paws are balanced on the headboard and swing the painting above my head. Both of these noises I now recognize and awaken instantly with "NO, Sabrina!" After initially running away, she jumps up on the bed beside me, purring, as if to say, "Oh, you're awake? Wouldn't you like to pet me?"

This morning it was 5 a.m. Of course, after the initial NO, I try to reason with her, "Five o'clock is WAY too early!"

Yes, I talk to my cat. For example, every day when I leave, I tell her goodbye and tell her not to poop in the front room.