All I want for Christmas...is earplugs...

There are many luxuries denied a person with six pets.  Travel is one, although where we would GO with all of our non-money is beyond me. Wearing socks that don't have a layer of fur on the bottom is another; ditto savoring a morning cup of coffee that DOESN'T have a dog hair floating in it.  Oh! And what I wouldn't give to go to the bathroom and not have a little crowd worriedly waiting outside the door to greet me when I emerge.

The thing I miss the most, however, is a really good night's sleep.  I'd send them all to a boarding kennel just for one night of unbroken slumber. Ahhhhh.

Nighttime brings out the worst in our cats.  During the day they are lazy and docile, and earn their keep by weighing down the couches and computer chairs, lest they float away.  It seems like gravity hits them extra hard, even pulling their eyelids to half-mast. The life of the housecat is a taxing one, indeed.

 Once the lights go out and we leave them upstairs, however, all Hell breaks loose.  They shake off gravity completely and decide that the only way to celebrate their newfound agility is by racing laps and engaging in WWF style wrestling matches. The manfriend and I lie in bed, wincing as various objects crash to the floor overhead; we try to reassure each other that each thing that fell wasn't that important.

"It's okay, it sounds like it was just the broom that fell over." *CRASH*  *TINKLE*
"Was that GLASS?!" *BOOOOOM*
"No, it's probably...uh, hmmm. You should probably go check."  *THUD*
"No, they're your cats, you go check!" *RATTLERATTLETHUNK*

And the argument goes on in this vein for up to 15 minutes.  Cutting into valuable sleep time!

Anyhow, when the cats aren't trashing the place and thundering around overhead like a trio of fuzzy rhinos, they are jumping on the bed and sleeping on our legs and heads.  The Stubcat has a nightly ritual of awkwardly climbing onto my feet while I'm lying in bed, then walking slowly up my whole body like an inebriated gymnast on a balance beam. She perches on my back and purrs with her whole body and soul. It's LOUD.  She'll often fall off (balance isn't a strong suit of the Stubcat), get her claws stuck in the blankets in the process and wake me up while she tugs herself free.  Marley favors sleeping on the dresser, and can often be found asleep in the manfriend's pants.  Panda sneaks onto the bed while I'm asleep and I'll wake up with my legs splayed in the most vulgar and uncomfortable position to accommodate her sleeping spot.

Locking the cats out of the bedroom is not an option, as the Stubcat will raise holy hell at the closed door; waowwwwing and scritch-scratching until she gains admittance.  We thought it was cute the first time she did it:

"Awww, she loves us!"

It's a good thing we don't have kids, because we would be the absolute worst parents.

The dogs have their own beds in our room; getting them onto the beds and asleep is a trial unto itself.  There is a lot of standing at the sides of the bed with big sad eyes and cold noses nudging our cheeks until we can convince both dogs that there isn't enough room for ALL of us on the bed.  They remain unconvinced, because they try it every night.

It takes explaining, cajoling, and finally threatening to get them on their beds.  The rebellion doesn't end there!  Bruin loudly licks his legs and butthole all night, and Gryphon smacks his lips repeatedly until I want to scream. Sleep is impossible...

Okay, here we go. Drifting off to sleep, yesssss. Dream of Johnny Depp wearing a rainbow and shaving a walrus incoming...

*Lick lick liiiiiiiiiick*   *Myup myup myup*  *Whistling dog faaaaaart*

What's that, Johnny? You want me to join you in Rainbowland at the Walrus Valley Ranch? Oh, my! Where are my clothes? What's that? I can't quite hear --

*MEEEEEE-YUP*   *Sluuuuuuuuurp*   *Licklicklicklick*

Johnny? Come back!

*Cat begins an arduous trip up my legs and anchors herself on my back*    *PURRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Bang. I'm awake. And super pissed. I don't dare open my eyes though. Even in the dark, Bruin will take this motion as OMG EYE CONTACT/PERMISSION TO COME ON THE BED and will leap onto the bed in a flail of limbs to stand excitedly on my face. Seconds later I'll see a pathetic shine of eyes in the dark next to my head: it's Gryphon, reproaching me for letting Bruin on the bed and not him.   Whimpering ensues.

Remember that ferret I said I had? Well, he's not to be forgotten, even upstairs safely locked in his cage.  He has, of all things, a crackle sack. AND a crackle tunnel.  They can be heard around the block.  In case you didn't know, night time is PRIME crackle sack playtime. Ask any ferret. 

To sleep. Perchance to <crackle crackle crackle>...oh, forget it.

Anyone have that kennel number handy?