So, my husband has been out of town all week. You wouldn’t know about that event because, despite being on Facebook and twitter and Instagram and all of the other sites where you are supposed to post every minute detail of your life, I don’t actually post anything about my life that’s super important until after the fact. Why? Because its a security risk. Bad guys will know you’re gone and they might come over to your house and steal stuff. Like your doggy treadmill or cat shampoo or maybe even your doggy gps tracker. I have lots of valuable stuff here, you know… Stuff that would probably appeal very much to pet-supply-stealing burglars.
Or they might come over when you’re home and trip over a doggy gate, or get attacked by one of your monster dogs who don’t know that they could easily knock down the doggy gates. Then they would sue you because they got hurt or bit or tripped over a gate, and maybe your dogs would be put in doggy jail and…well, its just better not to post that you or your husband is out of town.
Anyway, while my husband was gone, I was home alone for four days. This is a good thing because (don’t tell him), but I love being home alone. I get to write as much as I want, and stay up as long as I want, and I can listen to Enya without him calling me a girl, or to Nirvana without him telling me to “live in the now” and reminding me Cobain is dead. Also, I like people if I don’t have to talk to them much, and even though I totally adore my husband (I really do because he’s not nearly as annoying as most humans and he’s funny, too), but its still nice to have the house to myself.
However, when I’m home alone, the cats like to mess with me. They know they can trick the dogs too, so it’s really obnoxious.
Basically all the cats do is stand and stare down the hall all serious-like. But they do it for a really long time — long enough for you to take note and wonder what it is they are staring at.
Then when they have your full attention, they will suddenly turn and bolt down the hall in the opposite direction.
Of course, this freaks the dogs out and they start chasing the cats and barking and whining. Or they start wandering around on high alert looking for whatever scared the cats.
At first, I trusted the cats and just assumed that a pet-supply-stealing burglar was in the house. But how could that be? I mean, I never posted on facebook that I was home alone and since bad things only happen when you’re home alone (I’ve seen the movies), there couldn’t possibly be anyone in the house. The first night, I spent a lot of time chasing imaginary invaders around the dark house toting a baseball bat, which is weird when you think about it because I’ve never been any good at baseball and I have better weapons.
But obviously it wasn’t an intruder.
So then I figured it was a ghost. Because cats are hypersensitive to that type of thing. But after walking around with sage and purifying everything, and watching a couple of Being Human episodes (the BBC version which is the best version), I realized that it wasn’t a ghost. Mostly because ghosts don’t like cats; probably because cats like to mess with people – and by extension – ghosts.
Turns out, my cats are just jerks who like messing with me in the middle of the night. Probably because they have nothing better to do and are bored after sleeping for the last 16 hours – something I haven’t gotten enough of because my cats are being jerks….
And that is also why I don’t post personal things on Facebook…