Second in series (see archives Nov. 2009 on How To Sleep With Cats ).
I'm ensconced in the bathroom with a trashy tabloid magazine, looking forward to some quiet time with Brangelina. The bold decision to fully close the door has been made.
A few seconds pass...hmmm, really not a fan of Brad or his icky beard, what's up with tha...the meowing starts. Ah, that would be Lillie. Smallest cat, biggest mouth. A petite black paw slides under the door to accompany the "mah, mah, mah". "Shut up!" The paw disappears.
A few more seconds pass...then, a dainty, delicate, barely there meow. Oscar.
Scratching on the door (Oscar). "Get away from the freakin' door!" Scratching persists. "I said knock it off!"
A gray paw appears under the door. Then a chocolate brown one.
Suddenly, a scuffle breaks out.
Finn and Oscar are jockeying for key position of being first to run in the door the nanosecond it opens. The door bucks as twenty five + pounds of cat smacks against it. "Are you kidding me?! Cut! It! Out!"
Now only a gray paw forlornly searches under the door. "Get out of here!"
High pitched "meeeeeeeee" (Finn). Chocolate paw appears again. "I hate cats! Go away!"
Another scuffle. The latch is holding - so far. "Sigh..."
I hobble to the door and throw it open. Three flashes of fur (bonus points for tripping me on the way back) and my quality magazine time is over.
Finn jumps in the sink, attacks the faucet, then decides he needs to move the blinds so he look out the window. Oscar jumps up on my lap (WTH? I don't bother him when he's using the toilet!). Lillie walks along the edge of the tub meowing. Loudly.
All is well.