When Mental Illness Hits Home.

And no, for once I'm not talking about my family.

My poor cat seems to have had some sort of psychotic break that could perhaps be tired to the recent foster parenting of the dog.

After a little over 24 hours of self imposed exile in the living room Chablis seems to be back to her normal, disgruntled, bad attitude, demanding self.
" FEED ME BITCH ! " seems to be baseline for her.

The other cat however....well....he's just not the same. I mean, I think he had some sort of feline anxiety disorder to begin with. But things have just gotten worse since the departure of the dog.

Recently he's taken to meowing at the side of the bed ALL NIGHT LONG. Two, three, four in the morning, meow, meow,meow.
All.
Night.
Long.

I imagine this is what it is like to have a newborn baby.

I find myself yelling " SHUT UP ! " over and over again at him during the course of the night. Brock has throw a pillow or two at him in an effort to get him to leave the bedroom.

I would further imagine these are things you cannot do with a newborn.

This morning he decided that he'd like to check out the view from the kitchen sink.
Then he decided to lay on my hand while I was checking my email.

I'm not entirely sure what his deal is.....but I hope we can get this wrapped up soon.
I happen to be very fond of sleeping through the night.


Xoooo
Bunny