I haven't slept in about a week. My wife's cat has taken up a new game: He slams the bedroom door into the wall as hard as he can and waits for somebody to get up and chase him downstairs in the dark. Great fun.
What he does is walk over to the door — clicking his toenails on the bare floor every step of the way — stand on his back legs and push his front paws against the door so it slams against the wall — Bam!
At first, my wife chose to pussyfoot around the problem. But nobody, including her, was getting any sleep, except the cat, who sleeps in the daytime.
I wanted to shut the cat in the basement overnight, but my wife strongly suggested that if I did she'd shut me down there with him.
Trying to doze off until he strikes again doesn't do any good. You know that door is going to crash into the wall sooner or later, so it's like trying to sleep during a bombing raid.
Then — get this — he sashays over, jumps up onto the bed, landing squarely on my head every time, and cuddles up with my wife. Talk about sleeping with the enemy.
There's no point in trying to catch the cat. Did you ever chase one in a two-story house at night? Advantage: cat.
When I say I haven't slept in a week, it's only a slight exaggeration. Oh, I catch a catnap during the day from time to time, now that I'm retired, but real sleep is just a dream.
So I had to take matters into my own hands. I was going to have to engage the cat in guerrilla warfare — night maneuvers against a crafty adversary.