a rude awakening...

*Warning* This post contains scenes of urinating cats, mild peril and fantasy violence.

I might as well get straight to the point. Slinky woke me up this morning by spraying in my face. For a second or two it felt nice and warm and the thought crossed my mind that he was being unbearably cute again, and was licking my face. But no, he was peeing on me. There had been no big build up. Usually when he sprays in front of us, or on us, as he has done to me a couple of times now, we, or that should probably be me, have been ignoring his cries for attention. This morning he just jumped up on the bed stood on my chest and let rip. It worked, because I got up pretty quickly. The darling cat was waiting on the landing and danced ahead of me as I trudged downstairs. He had a few mouthfuls of food, went outside for a pee, then dashed back upstairs to sleep with Mrs McMuffin in our pee soaked bed. He didn't seem in the least bit distressed and he already had some food, I think Mrs McMuffin had got up in the night to feed him.

I have absolutely no idea why he did it, or what he wanted. The unconscious is an amazing thing, even little catty ones. I imagine he is very worried about what will happen to him once the baby is born. Will he still have a place in our hearts? The only problem is, of course, is that his behaviour forces us to exclude him from our lives, making his worst fears come true. It's like he is trying to force us to choose between him or the new baby. I must admit, until he peed on my face, I wasn't sure which way I was going to go.

Mrs McMuffin here to correct the impression that Mr McMuffin gave of me lying in a cat pee soaked bed this morning. Au contraire, the bed was stripped immediately and everything has been washed. I think it's important for the world to know my standards haven't dropped!