Charlie is an asshole

As some of you know Charlie, the cat, and I have quite the history; I love him dearly. Over the past couple of years I have not spent as much time with Charlie as I would have liked but every time I went to Ben's house I made sure to rub his belly and scratch his head for an appropriate period.

Ben left for Illinois on Wednesday and asked me to look after the orange tabby. Considering his time-sensitive diet, it would be best for someone to stay at Ben's house in order to accomplish this task. I gladly volunteered before Ben could even finish the request. I think he may have said, "So I'm thinking about driving to Carbondale for Christmas..." and I interrupted, "Do you need someone to watch Charlie?" Again, I love Charlie dearly so this would be a great opportunity! Hang out in Ben's house, watch his movies, read his books, enjoy the peace and quiet that comes with living alone, and snuggle with Chuck.

My first night here was first-rate. I left my house around Charlie's dinner time with a small overnight bag which had my name embroidered on it and headed over to Wilson Street. I would not want my things confused with those of other overnight guests (thanks Kat!). Upon my arrival Charlie did not run to the door as he had when he lived with me or as he had when I cat-sat for him in Mission Beach and University Hights. I walked in and slammed the door behind me for fear of his escape but it was not necessary. I searched for him and finally found him, safe and sound, beneath Ben's blankets on his bed. I fear Charlie might be getting old, he spends most of his time in bed. Or maybe he's just cold because every house Ben has lived in since I've known him has been cold to me so what's to say Charlie doesn't feel the same?

The evening was fun. I gave him treats and got the lay of the land. Cat food located here, TV turns on here, sign on to the wireless network 'Lucy in the Sky' here, charge my cell phone here. I had the pleasure of watching some FAMILY GUY which Ben had recorded on his DVR.

Digression:
Ladies and gentlemen, this technology is amazing. I had never navigated a DVR before. Oh, I've seen it done many a time but never by my hand and let me tell you I felt powerful. I controlled the repellent advertising machine. I said, "I will NOT see your scantily clad ladies purchasing scotch on the rocks and giving bartenders 'come hither' looks! I will NOT buy your Miller Light! I REFUSE to tune in next week for the inadequate rerun of some show on hold due to The Writers' Guild strike!" All this with the press of a button.

So here comes my first Charlie feeding. It goes well, like an old pro I return to his familiar bowls and replenish his water supply then give him his third of a can of food. He gobbles it up like the youngster I remember, squeaks and all. I hang around the house, tool around on facebook, watch some TV, flip through Chomsky. Bed time!

Admittedly I fell asleep on the couch hugging the remote control and taking full advantage of my new power over television. Due to this power I had forgotten to give Charlie his late-night feeding aka dinner. This is when the REAL Charlie fun begins. At 1:30am the cat sat on my head. I remembered this from the old days. He then started to kneed my hair. I remembered this also and remembered hating it. Since I had not responded to his massage, he walked over to the dining table and started knocking pieces of mail onto the floor one by one. I got up long enough to return them and pet him a little but made the mistake of rolling over and going right back to sleep. He then walked over the the glass bowl of rocks Ben has displayed on his glass top coffee table and starts knocking the rocks around. This wakes me up immediately and he gets his overdue dinner. I moved to the bed, he came and snuggled. 5:30am the fun begins again. The same routine: head, hair, knock shit over, another feeding.

It was better last night but again, this morning at 5:30am, Charlie wanted to be fed. MAN! Does he not know I'm in training? I'm trying to return to my pre 8am-4pm work schedule sleeping hours. To the days when I stayed up till 3am and woke up at 10am. PM hours were reserved for drinking and hanging out with friends, not sleeping.

In the end he is orange and cute and makes fun squeaking noises. I can't complain too much but Charlie hours are going to be the death of me. I have no idea how I did it when he lived with me during grad school.