I Own a Cat, Therefore, I am it's Plaything

Last night I realized that Yuko has been engaged in a subversive campaign to take over our bed. Despite the fact she is not allowed to sleep with us.

When I first decided this, due to allergies, not a cold heart; I think Mark took it worse than she did. His lip started to quiver. But Yuko, her eyes just took on a steely look.

Mushu, on the other hand doesn't care where he sleeps. In his world, the sleeping happens where he lays. Couches, counters, file cabinets, no horizontal surface is too good for him.

Yuko, the Dictator, on the other hand has decided to launch a far more complicated attack then just ignoring us or using our cutting board as a bed. Frightenly, she has a lot in common with those dinosaurs in Jurassic Park. She keeps testing the defences looking for a weakness. And low and behold she has found one. Mark.

Like the devious creature she is, she has cleverly brainwashed Mark into being her unwitting bag man. Just look at the evidence. Clearly, I have caught her in the act of subliminally programming him. Now she sneaks in while we are watching TV just before we go to bed. She cuddles herself up, batting her liquid eyes. When she senses it is the time of night were we turn off the light and scoot her out the door, she brings out the secret weapon. The purring begins. You don't even need to touch her it just gets louder. As if to say, I love this time of the day. When the three of us can bond. This of course reduces Mark to frantic shrugging and pulling of faces. And I start to point at the door. Needless to say I seem to lose more of these battles then win.