We have pretty exciting Friday nights around here. We’re in bed by 9:30. Sometimes Husband stays up until 10 if there’s a good game on. This Friday was typical, in bed by 9:15 or so. We were asleep too, when Leo decided it would be great fun to go under the bed and start batting at the headboard and generally causing a ruckus. When that wasn’t enough to get our attention, he popped out like a genie from the bottle and jumped up on the bed. Then up on the headboard. Then he batted around the wall some and knocked the clock on the floor.
“LEO!” I yelled. “Go play somewhere else!”
He obediently hopped down and went under the bed. More scurrying about right under my head, under the headboard and then a mad dash back up on the bed and on top of the headboard. Back and forth he prowled like a possessed lion.
“Maybe he found a bug or something,” Husband muttered sleepily.
I sat up. “What? What kind of bug? What if he found a bug and it gets on me???” You all know I’m a tough gal. I can manage spiders, twelve inch worms, tarantulas, bees, wasps, praying mantis, and all kinds of garden bugs. But the key there is GARDEN. Outside. NOT NEAR MY BED.
“I think you should…do something,” I said, still sitting up, peering into the dark and seeing nothing but dark. Leo was still up on the headboard.
Husband gave a long suffering sigh and got out of bed, turned on the light and retrieved the clock. He looked behind the headboard. “There’s nothing there.” He grabbed Leo and deposited him on the floor. “Go play in the living room.”
Leo obediently trotted off.
Lights off. I lay there listening. Was that a scurrying sound from under the bed? No, it was just Husband turning over. Probably. Wait! What was that noise? Oh. It was Leo playing in the living room. No, he was back in the bedroom. Was that him under the bed again? No, because he hopped up on the bed and onto the headboard. “Leo.”
Then, like a mad hatter, he tore off the bed and ran into the living room at the speed of a NASCAR cat fully intending to win the big checkered flag.
Husband sighed. “It’s hot. I’m going to turn the AC down.” He went out to the living room. Leo was still dashing about so Husband turned on the lights.
“Oh,” he said.
“Oh, what?” I asked.
“He is chasing one of those tree roaches.”
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” What could be worse than a giant, twelve-foot long tree roach landing on your face in the middle of the night? And you know that is what would have happened had Leo not chased it out of the bedroom and corralled the thing in the corner of the living room!!! Husband got the bug cup and deposited the giant thing in the toilet. He flushed twice to make sure it didn’t swim back out. Because tree roaches are of the monster world.
I gave Leo extra pats on the head and told him he was a good cat (he doesn’t hear that terribly often.) “You saved me, Leo! You’re my hero.” He purred. But he always does that, even when he is in deep trouble.
I didn’t sleep well, though. For some reason I had nightmares about something chasing me. Gah.