Take It Easy, Beezy

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

My words are: duvet, handle, sky, trampoline, and project. They were submitted by: https://followmehome.shellybean.com

This is probably not the kind of story that comes to mind when you see this list of words, but I already had the idea for it and wanted to get it written, so here we are. the words fit perfectly.

___________________________________

It started innocently enough with me waking up to my cat sitting on my chest on top of the duvet. She was bent over close enough that I could smell her ocean-whitefish breath and staring me down like I’d just stolen the last hairball treat in her stash. The whole scene kind of creeped me out a bit. Who likes being watched while they sleep? Sometimes I snore, though, so I figured she had heard me and wondered if I was possibly dying, and I just happened to catch her at the moment she’d leaned in to check. She’d been with me long enough to know my quirks, but cats can kind of be sensitive about those things, so I gave her a few pets and reassuring words, then rolled over and promptly fell back asleep.

In the light of morning with all traces of darkness fading from the sky, it was nothing more than a hazy feeling of weirdness that I soon forgot as the chorin’ for the day wore me down and kept me busy.

But then it happened again the next night.

And the next.

And, well, for a whole week every single night I woke up with her green eyes shining down on me haloed by the glare from my Frankenstein night light. I was more than a little creeped out, but I figured she was going through something hormonal and would take her to the vet if she acted out of the norm in any other way.

On night 8, she was quietly meowing in a rhythmic tune while she stared. Like she was chanting… A few nights later, she was moving her paws in circular patterns in the air in rhythm with her little chant. I hated to do it, but it was time to put her out of the room while I slept. So I tried. Didn’t work.

Didn’t work the next night either. Or the next when I actually put her in the kennel I used to take her to the vet and closed her in the guest bathroom.

I wasn’t sleeping. At least not at night. I fell asleep in a team meeting about a new community project at work and got a write up. I fell asleep in the car on the way home one night and almost wrecked the car. I was falling asleep on the toilet, in the elevator, and every time I was still for longer than a moment. I couldn’t handle it. I felt like I used to as a kid when I’d fall on the trampoline at my aunt’s house and all my cousins would keep jumping closer and closer to me so I couldn’t get up. I’d panic and flail and beg them to quit while they laughed and bounced me harder. It was like all the air had been knocked out of me and left me spinning.

It was time for the vet.

Okay, it was probably beyond time for the vet, but that’s where I drew the line. I made the appointment in a sleep-deprived fog, don’t remember the drive there, and stumbled my way through the motions of the sign in wondering just how I was going to explain what was going on. Obviously, I left out the parts about about chanting and paw movements. Who’d believe that? But I at least went through the waking up with her in my face every night and that something just felt…off. The vet had more questions, but I hadn’t changed anything up, no changes to her schedule, same food, same litter, and there were no other symptoms. She got her answers, did the standard checkup, and said everything looked fine and to call if anything changed. Ha. Everything had changed already. Everything was weird and different and fucking scary. I wanted answers for myself. I left feeling defeated and drowning in a web of confusion. She wasn't just any cat, and if something was wrong, I needed to know.

That night, it was more of the same. I didn’t even bother with the kennel or putting her out of the room anymore. What was the point? She’d end up in my face no matter what doing her creepy little stalker thing. It was just part of the routine now. It wasn’t until a couple days later that I felt something more in the room. I wrote it off as sleep paralysis at first. I hadn’t been sleeping well. I was exhausted. Sleep paralysis made sense. I woke up several nights in a row feeling absolutely terrified but unable to see anything at all. I could feel this swirl of anger and resentment pressed into me like a weight keeping me from moving. It was so intense one night I nearly choked, unable to lift my chest enough to get a good breath in.

As the nights wore on, that weight felt more and more real. I thought I could see a shimmering outline of a figure in the corner a couple times, but it was never solid, and I could have sworn I could smell something rotten. I convinced myself I was losing my mind and withdrew from everyone. I took a year’s worth of vacation time from work claiming I had to go in for surgery and basically isolated myself so no one would have to bear witness to my descent into madness.

I kept holding on to the fact that none of this was happening during the day. It kept me hoping that I wasn’t making any of it up or hallucinating it. I wasn’t seeing it all the time or anywhere I happened to be. It was just my room, my bed really, in the wee hours of the morning. Maybe I could figure it out…or maybe I could have if I wasn’t so fucking exhausted.

A couple nights before I had to go back to work I woke up with that same presence and Maude Lebowski (my cat) doing her little thing, but this time, it felt more defined, and the smell was very real. The dread and fear were there, but that weight of anger wasn’t suffocating me. The figure was solid but shrouded in darkness. I couldn’t see features, but it didn’t much matter. As soon as I heard the laugh, I shut my eyes so tight I couldn’t see a fucking thing anyway. Tonight I could move and took full advantage of snatching the covers right over my head. If I can’t see it, it can’t get me. Funny how that kid logic sticks with you when the shit hits the fan.

“Human known as Claire Ramona LaFleur, I have a message for you.”

What in the wide world of fuck? I thought. A message. A message? From who? Or what? What the hell was going on?
I know I whimpered out some kind of mumbled, garbled version of “message?” But it understood fully what I meant and replied in its deep, gravelly voice, “Maude Lebowski has requested that you purchase her the food you used to buy because, and I quote, ‘that new shit is crusty, and I’m not here for it anymore.’”

“What?”

“This is your feline companion Maude, yes?” It pointed.

“uh…yessssss…”

“Maude has summoned me and traded exactly one of her 9 lives in order for me to request that you buy her, and, again, I quote, ‘that good shit.’”

“my cat summoned a….what?”

“Demon. You can call me Beezy though I do think we both hope this night is the end of all this mess.”

“Okay, Beezy. Beezy, Ok. Let me get this straight. Maude has been torturing me for two months with the nightly wakeups and the weird ritual shit and what I can only assume was your presence for at least the last couple weeks. And she did all this because she wants Taste of the Wild not Blue Buffalo? AND it took 2 months to accomplish it?”

“Yes. That is exactly the deal. Also, it took so long because I can’t understand cats very well, and she can’t speak my name or do the symbols very well. It took a lot of tries and a lot of frustration for the two of us to get it together. But she made good on her deal, so I had to complete my end of the bargain no matter how long I took. Here’s the thing though: I’m thoroughly amused now that I can see the look on your face and your reactions, but hear me—I’m done. I want no more of this insanity. Please for the love of everything evil, buy your cat the fucking food she wants.”

And with that, it was gone.

I got myself dressed and made coffee, so I could wait in the parking lot for the nearest pet store to open. I wasn’t going to take any chances on Beezy coming back. Besides, who could sleep in that room smelling so strongly of sulfur and death? 

So that's the story about how I met Beezelbub. As they say, the truth is stranger than fiction.

Oh, and I buy Taste of the Wild every time now no questions asked. I perfectly understand what that says about my cat owning me. But until your cat summons a literal demon into your bedroom, you have no room to criticize.

_________________________________

Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

Baking In A Tornado  https://www.bakinginatornado.com/2019/03/you-can-do-it-use-your-words.html

The Blogging 911 https://theblogging911.com/blog/

Cognitive Script  https://cognitivescript.blogspot.com/2019/03/that-rascally-rabbit-strikes-again.html 

Southern Belle Charm https://www.southernbellecharm.com

The Bergham Chronicles https://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com/

On the Border https://dlt-lifeontheranch.blogspot.com/2019/03/almost-home.html

The Crazy Mama Llama: https://www.thecrazymamallama.com/

Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2019/03/use-your-words-beige.html

Follow Me Home https://followmehome.shellybean.com

The Lady Who Pet a Bear

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 9 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My “Secret Subject” is:

What is your biggest fear? Why?

It was submitted by: https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog

Okay, so this probably isn't really my biggest fear, but my health has been extremely poor lately and has put me in a negative headspace, and I wanted to keep this light. If I talked about the kinds of fears I have associated with being sick, I'd just dig that negative headspace deeper to the point I might not be able to dig out. it's been hard enough to find good days as it is. thanks for understanding.

__________________________________

If you’re my facebook friend, you might recognize this story, but it’s a story that needs to be told in order to understand the gravity of my situation.

I was showering with the dog a couple weeks ago. Let me add here that we all take turns showering with the dog because it’s easier. Pushing a 150+lb great dane into a tub takes W O R K. And that’s before you factor in that if you put him in the tub, you’re going to have to get in there with him if you don’t want the entire bathroom soaked after he jumps out and flees out the door. So he showers with us. None of us like it except him, but dogs have no shame. At all.

There I am trying to shave. With the dog in the shower. I have no good explanation for why it couldn’t wait, but it just couldn’t. The leg I’m shaving is propped above the dog’s back on the back wall of the shower, so I could get the job done without getting my hair wet. But here’s the problem—my foot slipped. My foot slipped down the wall until it hit the floor on the opposite side of the dog, so there I am, naked, with one leg on either side of the dog.

Naked.

For clarity, I am, in fact, naked. In the shower. With the dog.

Here’s the even bigger problem—the dog is taller than my legs are long, so that when my foot initially slips and lands on the floor, my other foot lifts up, and I can’t really stand with that one anymore. I don’t have my balance and kind of teeter there with my toes sort of gripping the shower floor at alternate times. My life flashes before my eyes because I just cannot see this working out in my favor when I finally managed to get a stable grip and get my shit together. Crisis mostly averted. This time.

While I finished shaving—obviously it still had to be done--I realized my entire purpose in life is to embarrass myself as much as humanly possible every single day.

Can you imagine the horror of falling and hurting yourself and whoever finds you also finds you in the shower, naked, and with the dog? And the harder you try to explain how things went awry, the more ridiculous and unbelievable you sound…

I figure that the likelihood I become some urban legend kind of story, some weird death or injury or hilarious anecdote, is looming larger than life, and who wants to be reduced to that?

Lady, 37, dies at home after slipping on a puddle of dog drool and gets eaten by her 16 cats.

Neighborhood woman gets trampled at local dairy farm while attempting to “save the cows.”

Georgia resident dies attempting to pet a bear, screams “fuck yes” just before the attack.

Local woman dies from rabies after attempting to save an injured raccoon.

Climax woman goes missing after calling a local militia member a “walking participation trophy.”

Get the picture? At some point, I am absolutely sure that my lack of judgment when it comes to pets and animals or just in general is going to make me some kind of laughing stock erasing every good I’ve tried to do in my life. Just a “foot in my mouth” legend who might have dreamed of cuddling a cheetah cub. Who knows? What I do know is I have no idea how to turn it off at this point in my life, so I guess I’m just going to live in fear that I won’t realize how terrible my judgment is until the moment it all goes south while hoping for the best.

And maybe I’ll actually get to pet a bear.

______________________________________

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Baking In A Tornado  https://www.bakinginatornado.com/2019/03/dont-forget-gardener-secret-subject-swap.html

Never Ever Give Up Hope https://batteredhope.blogspot.com

The Blogging 911  https://theblogging911.com/my-life-reinvention-secret-subject-swap/

Cognitive Script  https://cognitivescript.blogspot.com/2019/03/no-longer-friends-march-sss.html

Southern Belle Charm https://www.southernbellecharm.com

The Bergham Chronicles https://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com/

The Crazy Mama Llama https://www.thecrazymamallama.com/?fbclid=IwAR37KD4fA2qGenGetu8_KXpldlzKHRSC0mNDeyDnuVEUWyYj8dfTZNdX-Xc

Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2019/03/secret-subject-swap-leaves.html