It's been one of those mornings

You know the kind I mean.  The kind where you wake up in a bad mood and it goes down hill from there? That kind.

Lately morning has been starting about 5 o'dark thirty, with that no good sorry ass Angus MacPhee deciding it is time for e v e r y o n e to wake up.  And wake up the hard way.

What is the hard way, you might ask?

It starts with that little bastard Angus meowing.  Then he gets louder "MEEEOOOOW!"

Then he gets this really deep down, open up his throat meow going that gets so loud it's unbelievable!

"Rrrr, rrrrr, mrrrr-ooooowwwwwww!"

We have large industrial-sized squirt bottles filled with watered-down vinegar to blast any pet who gets out of line.  And Mr. Big Ed keeps one on his side of the bed at night for just such displays of douchiness.  So the morning has started.  Angus is yowling and acting like a dick.  Mr. Big Ed is squirting the bottle without aiming or opening his eyes and all the other pets are trying to get out of the line of vinegar fire.

Then Angus decides that it is time to move on to Phase Two of his "Kill the Morning Campaign". Phase Two looks like this:

On each side of our bed are night stands.  Each with lamps, alarm clocks, various reading materials, glasses of water, eyeglasses, cell phones, house phones.  You know, the usual night stand clutter.  And right behind those night stands?  Long skinny windows with those crappy metal mini-blinds in them.

So Angus bats at the metal blinds (making loads of noise in the process) until he gets them to flip forward enough that he can get in the window behind them and start the yowling process all over again.  That way he is up much closer to our heads so we can hear him all the better.  And he has his eye on you the whole time so that the minute you raise your head up to try and start throwing the other 4 cats off of the top of the covers so you can get out from underneath them and grab him, he has rattled out of the blinds and headed for the hills.

Sometimes he even goes for Phase Three.

Phase Three looks like Phase Two except for one thing.  Instead of going around the back side of the night stands to get into the blinds and make a ruckus?

HE GOES ON TOP OF THE NIGHT STANDS AND KNOCKS ALL THAT SHIT OFF OF THEM!!

If that weren't bad enough, he does it first on one side and then when we get all cleaned up and settled back down,

HE DOES IT TO THE OTHER NIGHT STAND!!

Angus is quickly using up all of his nine lives.

That's how the morning started today.  Then I had to get up and take Nikita Babushka (the Husky Princess) outside to pee. While she is out peeing and sniffing the air, I go get Maxwell Banks (the Schnauzer with Alzheimer's) and wake him up to go pee and what do I find?  He has woken up early and just peed and shit in the kitchen floor.  And then he had stepped in it.  And kept walking.

I didn't lose it yet.  I was calm and said to myself, "Self, you can just clean this up in just a bit. Get all the dogs out to pee, give the cats their treats and then worry about it."  Then I herded Max outside and went to wake up Ernest T. Bass to go outside.  (I always sing to him "Ernest T. Bass goes pee pee on the grass")

During the 2 - 3 minutes it took me to go get Ernest T. and walk back towards the back door, Nikita had taken a big shit right in the family room.  She had just been outside and walked back inside and shit on my floor.  Bitch.

Ernest T. and I stepped around it and I took him outside and brought Max in and was starting to cuss all these damn animals under my breath.

Then I got the paper towels, spray bottle of cleaner, the swiffer and those wet swiffer sheet things and the trash can and was getting ready to clean up all the floors when my phone rang.

I almost didn't answer it, but I saw on the caller i.d. thing that it was my neighbor, The Colonel.  Since he turned 90 on Easter this year, I wouldn't feel right ducking his call.  What if he or the lovely Miss Betty had fallen or something?

So I answered it.  And he started in telling me this story of how their across the street neighbor had called them to tell them that she had seen a strange looking vehicle pull up in their driveway (The Colonel's driveway) and that a black man had gotten out of the car!!  Then TC & MB dog, Fifi had set up barking and raising cain so the black man had run back to his car and high-tailed it out of there, taking a section of their retaining wall with him.

So far this is a pretty good story since we do tend to keep the neighborhood in the loop of potential burglaries and such.  But then I guess The Col. got comfortable with his story and he started referring to the black man as the n-word.  We all know the word.  I use a lot of words.  I use a lot of really good swear words.  Never do I use that word.  Never.  And it took my poor brain a few seconds to digest the fact that he had in fact, actually said that word.  Out loud.  And assumed that it was okay to use that word with me.



So I hung up and then looked at all the dog shit and piss I had to clean.  And I cleaned it all up and then mopped the floor.

All this BEFORE I had my cup of tea.  BEFORE.

I am now drinking my tea and typing about the shitty morning I have had.  All of which started with that little douchebag Angus MacPhee.  Angus, who likes to sleep all day.  Angus, who takes really long cat naps during the day.  Angus, who will be woken up every chance I get today.  Every time I see that little bastard sleeping I am going to wake him up.  Gleefully!

No sleep for Angus!

How's your morning?