Tank, the same cat that sent me to the hospital about 4 years ago*, spent Monday night and Tuesday night knocking things off my desk.
Normally when he is being annoying it's because he wants me to feed him. I'm not sure what the issue has been so far this week, though, since feeding him hasn't stopped the gravitational experimentation.
After two nights the sleep deprivation was about to kill me, so last night I foiled his furry little nefarious plans by covering my desk with a sheet.
We slept through the night, or, at least, I did, so there's a minor victory.
When I just removed the sheet from over the desk I got it caught on the back of the monitor, I guess, as I swept just about everything off my desk, including the things that are too heavy for Tank to move.
Victory turns to defeat.
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*Christmas 2011, and I was lying on the couch.
First feeding request (foot bumping): I did not respond.
Second feeding request (looking at me like I'm some kind of idiot): I did not respond.
Third feeding request (knocking the remote control off of the arm of the couch): I did not respond.
Fourth and final feeding request (biting me on the eyebrow, demonstrating that he can, if necessary, eat me): I got up and fed the cat.
December 27, 2011: One tooth caught the very thin skin of my eyelid, which by then was horribly infected and swollen shut. Dr. Mac's office is closed, of course, so off to Urgent Care.
Urgent Care Center Doctor: Yikes, that eyelid looks horrible. What happened?
Me: My cat bit me.
Doctor: On the eyelid? How tall is your cat?
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