Sometimes, as I lie upon my cot at night, one or more of my cats come up on the bed, walk up beside me, and stare at me as if trying to communicate through telepathy. Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I will find one or more of my cats sitting and staring at me, as if trying to communicate through telepathy. Sometimes when I wake up, I have hair in my mouth. Sometimes the hair does not belong to me.

This makes me paranoid.

It also makes me wonder what my cats are doing as I sleep innocently before them. It makes me wonder if they are plotting. Or practicing mind control. Or grooming me.

The thought of them grooming me makes me paranoid.

Don’t judge me.

Just so you don’t think this is a new phenomenon in the Angst Which Is Betsy, I thought I’d share a poem I wrote a couple of years ago. I think I had also just seen the episode of the X-Files where Scully gets her little dog, after said little dog’s owner died and the little dog ate her. The dead owner, that is.

Hey, it made me think, that’s all.  Anyway, here’s the poem:

Cats:

• Do not help with the household chores.
• Occasionally use the rug as toilet paper – especially if the rug is light in color.
• Watch to see where you habitually walk with bare feet.  Then they cough up a hairball in that exact spot.
• Enjoy nibbling on a houseplant now and again.  Then their stomachs rebel.  Violently.  In the path where you habitually walk with bare feet.
• Can fly if they really want to reach a high perch, catch a bug, or are determined to pull down a stack of books and magazines.
• Can be immovable if they so choose.
• Can have a hundred arms, legs, paws, claws and teeth when you try to stuff them into a carrier
• Seek out the fabric-covered surface in your house that is the hardest to clean and the exact opposite in color to that of their fur.  Then they lay upon it routinely.  And shed.
• Call for you when they want you to come to them and become impatient if you do not obey quickly enough.
• Enjoy grooming your hair and face in the middle of the night when you are asleep.
• Like to stand on your lap and stick their butts in your face.  Especially if you are eating something at the time.
• Lay on the computer keyboard to get attention.
• Purr
• Love you.  Mostly.
• Rule.

I am on vacation this week, which means I have some extra time to play around with my blog. Oh, and my WRITING. Yeah, my writing.

Anyway.

Because I have extra time, I had planned to write a post of epic scope. A post that would make you laugh and cry. At the same time. A post that would teach you the meaning of being human. A post that would encourage you to reach for the moon – even if you miss you’ll end up amongst the stars. THAT kind of post.

But I just don’t feel like it.

So instead I went out onto the “ICanHazCheezburger” site and downloaded some LOL Cat pictures that will give you a sense of how my vacation is going thus far. Although they didn’t have a picture of a cat shopping, and I think that’s where I’ve spent most of my energy.

Otherwise, though, these are pretty fair representations of my week:

Reading –

Sitting (so obviously this is a guy – but I did have that same expression on my face just yesterday…)-

Trying to concentrate –

Catering to whims that are not mine own –

Welcome to my life. It’s good to be in charge. If I didn’t have opposable thumbs and could open food cans, they wouldn’t have any use for me at all. 🙂

J. K. Rowling has four houses in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Harry Potter, for those of you who have been living under a rock).

I have four cats.

Ahhhh… I see you know where I am going with this. And you would be right! It recently occurred to me that each of my four cats represents a house at Hogwarts. Allow me to elaborate:

Hufflepuff

Real name: Oliver Wendall Holmes Horvath.
Oh, how can you look at my boy Oliver and not think “Hufflepuff”. He’s a homebody, he loves the kitchen, and he’s very fuzzy. Perfect!

Ravenclaw

Real name: Tasha Tudor Teddy Bear Horvath.
She’s very smart and very sweet, but she can kick some butt if she has to!

Slytherin

Real name: Emily Dickinson Horvath.
She’s not exactly bad, but she sure can be sneaky! And she beats up all of the other cats unless they hit her first. By the way – I often sing “I’m in love with a Slytherin girl” to Emily. She likes it. No accounting for taste.

Gryffindor

Real name: Edgar Rice Burroughs Allen Poe Horvath.
He started out life on the streets of New York, but now he’s come into his own. Considering how he began, and how well he’s adapted, I have to say that he’s one of the bravest cats I know.

There you have it. The houses of Hogwarts as personified by my cats. Now if only they would use their magic and do the dishes.