Dog owners may not be prepared for cat zoomies
While dogs copy their owners' sleeping hours, cats may be too independent to sleep through the night
I can’t quite say I don’t like cats. I can, however, say I’m the equivalent of parents who like their own kids but cringe at the idea of being around a bunch of other people’s kids. There are three cats I absolutely like: Lucy, who is framed in the middle of the “dog wall” in my dining room, Wilson and Luna. There’s also this cat who snoops on me while I walk two of my favorite Wag! dogs. The cat (name unknown) circles me the entire time and perks up when I say, “Hi, cat!” But she ran away the one time I tried to pet her, so I never tried again.
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Minus Lucy, Wilson and Luna, I just can’t make sense of cats. It’s like being around moody people 24/7. You never know what kind of energy a cat will have — hostile one minute, aloof at minute two and affectionate 10 minutes later. And they always look at you like you owe them money and are taking forever to pay it back. I avoid cats as much as I possibly can and turned off the option to do drop-ins for cats on Wag! and Rover. It’s easy money, I suppose, but I don’t enjoy hanging out with cats. A dog needs to be nearby for me to deal with them.
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Not all pet lovers like cats and dogs
I’m not the type who thinks everyone should love dogs, though. When a new tenant moved in and jumped as soon as my dog tried to sniff her legs, I wasn’t offended. I have a terrible habit of assuming everyone loves dogs and should have short-leashed my dog, Junee, beforehand.
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I did the same thing when I found another resident’s wallet on my windowsill. One evening, I knocked on his door, and he opened it wide with a friendly, “What’s up?” Then, he glanced at my dog, who was wearing a bright blue collar light so her black fur would be more noticeable at night, and he immediately backed up from the door and closed it halfway. I apologized immediately.
My dog is connected to me like my right hip. I forget to point out to strangers that there’s a shorter living being next to my leg. It’s why I appreciate it when cat owners tell me they have cats before I open the door — not just because those hyperactive animals do that creepy sideways running but also because I can prepare myself for the sights and sounds of them beforehand.
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If you’ve never lived with cats, you won’t be prepared for dusk-to-dawn zoomies
If you’re a long-time dog owner like me who has never lived with a cat, their differences can be quite the learning experience. About three weeks ago, I kept hearing this sound at random hours. It was familiar to me but only in December. It sounded like Christmas lights were falling from my window. My normal reaction to that sound is to look at my two large picture windows to readjust the tape or hooks. But this sounded like never-ending Christmas lights falling. Thump. Christmas lights falling. Thump. Over and over and over again.
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I briefly wondered if the tenants above me got a Roomba because I’d been hearing a vacuum cleaner more often than usual. (I love it. A large rug was clearly purchased, and I stopped feeling like horny dinosaurs moved in. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!) But a Roomba has more of a therapeutic humming sound — unless it gets stuck in a corner. And this Roomba seemed to be programmed to turn on at insanely early hours.
I would wake up on my human-sized dog bed to those falling Christmas lights and wonder what was going on. Either I’d drag myself to my actual bed in my bedroom (and deal with one-half of the tenants constantly opening and closing dresser drawers an hour before my alarm went off) or use Headspace to block out the sound of the falling lights.
Then it hit me. Maybe this wasn’t a Roomba at all. Maybe this was something that was alive and running and jumping and playing at ridiculously early hours while my own dog’s butt was one foot from my face and completely buried underneath the blanket that’s usually in my ottoman. (This dog may have been a bat or vampire in another lifetime. She loves sleeping with her head shoved into my waist and wrapped up like a burrito.)
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I suspected a cat or a rabbit since I hadn’t heard any barking, and my suspicion was confirmed when I saw a delivery package for a cat litter box yesterday morning. But what’s up with cats treating the living room like a racetrack? Turns out this is normal for cats at night.