My Children

My cats beg for release from their prison every morning (a spacious house we rent solely for their comfort). They dash outside go ten feet from the front door and eat grass for five minutes, then scratch at the door to be let in (or sooner if an airplane flies over). If I oversleep, they try to expedite the process with claws (as they can only manage sliding doors and doorknobs with lever handles on their own) which motivates me to trim their claws more frequently. I don't get it. Once they are back inside they wind around my ankles as I make breakfast, trying to kill me which makes no sense to me as I am the only one of the four of us that knows how to operate a doorknob. After getting kicked and stepped on, I settle on the couch with my darlings to work on my homework for a little bit before I go to work. Invariably this results in one of four events. 1. Thomas sticks his paw in my water, knocks it over and gets banished from the room. 2. Thomas picks a fight with one of the others or both and all three get banished from the room. 3. Thomas or Bob walks across the computer invariably deleting whatever I am working on or messing up my computer which gets them....banished from the room. 4. One of them decides that I am not paying enough attention to them and uses their claws to notify me of their presence (see consequences above). We do this every morning. I keep waiting for a learning curve to develop, but maybe they are thinking the same thing. I can't wait for real children.