Relief, Interrupted

Tabitha Darling likes to come upstairs.  She doesn't come and lay by me.  She doesn't come in my room very much at all.  At least, not when I'm awake.  If I happen to fall asleep when she's up there, nine times out of ten, I'm awakened by caterwauling, hissing and spitting.  Because cats know when their humans are sleeping.  And Tabitha is nothing if not opportunistic.  She'll come in my room and pick a fight.  Usually with Bebe, but sometimes Jessie.  Whichever opportunity presents itself first.  Monday I had let Tabitha come upstairs and she was very well behaved.  I fell asleep for 45 minutes or so and, when I awoke, she was still in the storage room.  So Tuesday, I felt kindly toward her and let her come upstairs.

Now Tabitha is not stupid.  In fact, that cat seems to understand most of what I say.  She just ignores the stuff she doesn't want to hear.  When I bring her up here with me, I tell her "Be nice."  It's not the words, but the tone of voice I use.  It's partly remonstrative, partly soothing.  When I say that and use that tone, she proceeds very cautiously up the stairs.  If she gets up here without me, well, she flies up the stairs and makes a beeline for a cat to pick on.

When we came upstairs in the afternoon.  I said the usual "Be nice" and she proceeded slowly, and went directly into the storage room.  A quick look showed me that Bebe was in my room already.  I assumed that Jessie was under the chest of drawers--her most recent hidey-hole.  I needed to use the bathroom, so I closed my bedroom door to keep Tabitha from going in there.  If I know one of the cats is not in my room, I take Tabitha into the bathroom with me and close that door.  Most of the time, I leave the bathroom door open.  Especially now, since I'm up here alone.  It's an old habit, formed from years with cats and having a small child.  Cats hate closed doors as much as any two year old child.

Right across from the bathroom is my closet.  So I had a ring-side seat, as it were, for events that began to unfold as soon as my, er, guard was down.

Tabitha was in the hallway--right in front of my closet.  What possessed Jessie to emerge from said closet right then, I have no idea.  Didn't she see/hear/smell Tabitha?  I mean, all those senses are supposed to be so acute in animals.  I know Jessie's senses still work.  I also know she's old.  Maybe she has feline dementia.  It was, at the very least, a very stupid thing to do.

Tabitha, knowing I was, um, temporarily incapacitated, immediately attacked Jessie.  With my bedroom door closed, Jessie had nowhere to run.  I started yelling at Tabitha to stop and tried to finish my business quickly.  Tabitha backed off a little and I was finally able to stand up.  Before I could get my capris pulled up, she attacked Jessie again.  I yelled again, reaching down for my pants, and started toward the two cats.  With my pants still around me knees, I managed a quick shuffle out of the bathroom and, jerked my bedroom door open, while holding onto my pants with one hand.

Jessie flew into my room with Tabitha hot on her tail.  With another shuffle-step, I managed to push the bedroom door closed before Tabitha could get through it.  She got clipped in the nose by the door, which gave me a small measure of satisfaction.  With the two cats on opposite sides of the door, I was able to--finally!--pull my capris up all the way.  Not taking the time to button and zip, I chased Tabitha down the stairs, scolding her all the way.  The little hellion hissed at me!  Me!  I grabbed the stairway door handle with my foot and pulled it closed.

Taking a deep breath, I climbed the stairs, buttoning and zipping.  I finished my ablutions and opened my bedroom door.  Jessie was nowhere to be seen, but Bebe was sitting by her food bowl.  Now it was my turn to be scolded, as the fracas had delayed her afternoon meal!