Marc and I have been so in love from day one: It’s how we got our children! We planned each one because we knew how to love and the importance of cherishing them as a full being in their own right from the moment they’re born. To make sure we passed that on to them, we decided early on that pets were a good way to teach them that important lesson. Little did we know just what kind of lesson our pets could bring to us, least of all in the bedroom.
First, there’s our cat Batik. She’s a rather eccentric cat. Cats, as anyone who’s had a cat can tell you, don’t have owners - they have staff. Well, Batik (our cat) is a little different: She thinks she’s a human, albeit a small one, with furry skin, four wheel drive and more class than an average human. This, in her mind, makes her one of the family and just as demanding as any child.
Now, normally, Marc has a standing rule: No pets in the bedroom. That may seem a little cold, but he has his reasons.
On one occasion, Marc and I had “plans” for the evening, and we were so intent on said plans that we forgot about the rule. That of course means we didn’t check the room.
Cats are normally unobtrusive creatures who have no interest in what us inferior beings might get up to. This normal cat behavior that both Marc and I are conditioned to, having grown up with them, had lulled us into a false sense of security: No cat would bother us in this, our time of need. Cats are suppossed to have far more important matters to attend to: Like getting in their ninth hour of sleep or stretching, rather than worring about what their staff are doing. But remember; this cat is different. Just as we were truly engaged with the matter at hand, Batik decided we were ignoring her just a bit too much when she was so obviously in the room.
For Marc, (when we’re busy) there’s nothing like a good bump, rub and furry flick of the tail up the nose, to get him annoyed. Batik thought she hadn’t quite gotten our attention so she followed with a heartfelt “Meow”. She then, looked at us for all the world like, “I love you, you know, so it’s time to let me know that you love me with a pet.”. Another bump. Tail up Marc’s nose again. This was followed with a big sneeze from Marc and now he was getting downright grumpy.
Marc blew in her face to make her go away and Batik not being terribly impressed, told him exactly what she thought of him. Hiiissss! Hiss! Spit! Luckily, I speak cat, so translating for you: “You unreasonable bastard!” Then she stalked off with another furry flick to the nose. That’s “Hmph!” by the way.
Thinking that everything was all right now, I tried to help Marc lose his grump with what I thought was rather convincing skill. But then, Marc got a most out of context look on his face: It was very much a “not happy” face. In fact, he had a look of complete disbelief. The cat, it seemed, had had other ideas.
Suddenly, Marc was yelling, “CAT!!!” and got up kicking his legs about. Bemused, I asked what the matter was as he got out of bed and made sweeping motions at the cat to help her make a speedy exodus out the door. He looked at me with an incredulous look on his face and told me, “She curled up on my legs!”. To which I intelligently asked, “What do you mean?”. Marc: “She curled up on my legs to go to sleep!”. I asked him if he was serious, trying very hard not to laugh, and Marc looking at me with extremely intense eyes, told me, “Yes”, with many exclamation marks (you could almost see them).
I have learned that laughing in such situations until I cry is not quite the reaction Marc looks for from me. You’ll see why in a moment. I did manage to valiantly hold on for a full thirty seconds before I lost it, though.
Marc’s reaction may seem a little strong, but this was not the first time he had been interrupted by a pet during intimate time with me.
The beginning of the story: Natasha…
When our children were small, Marc and I had uh, “favored” the missionary position in our lovemaking. When you have four small children and an open door policy, it’s easier to say, “Daddy is cuddling Mummy” (under the covers) than trying to explain to them that Daddy is helping Mummy stretch (insert imagination here). Really. We also had a foam mattress. This is important later.
Back then we had a beautiful dog. Her name was Natasha and she was half Rottweiler, one quarter Siberian Husky, and one quarter black wolf. She was mostly black with electric blue eyes and weighed in at about 150 pounds. She was very intelligent and highly sociable. The only things you had to fear from her was her belief that she was in fact a lap dog, and drowning by affection.
Each night when we went to bed and fell asleep, Natasha would curl up at the foot of our bed. She also had a spot on the floor she liked and knew to go there until she could pin our feet when we were unconscious. So when Marc wanted to kick her out for “Mummy, Daddy Time”, she looked so woebegone that I felt like I’d somehow managed to beat her with some sort of “mean stick”. Being a soft-hearted schumck, I talked him into letting her stay in the room.
We started our time together and everything was going well for the first thirty minutes or so, then as Marc gave me a wonderful, passionate kiss, SLURP! Really loud and wet in my left ear accompanied some rather loud snuffling noises. We stopped and told Natasha to go lie down, which she did. OK, problem solved since she actually listened. When we were sure she was going to stay there, we put our attention back to more immediate matters.
About ten minutes later, we’re kissing again, only to be interrupted by some VERY loud snuffling. Marc pulled away from me to tell Natasha to go lie down. Natasha followed up Marc’s action and her eager snuffling, by quickly wrapping Marc’s nose with her tongue. For some reason, at this point Marc was rather unaffected by Natasha’s woebegone look, and wanted to kick her out. I of course, was still quite affected by it (it’s why I like babies) and I talked him out of it. Back to her spot on the floor she went.
Some time passes and we’re finally getting down to the crux of the matter, when all of a sudden Marc pushes himself way up and stops dead. I’m laying there wondering if he gotten to the finish line without letting me know except that he seemed to have a rather strange look on his face. Then Marc starts a strange little bouncing manoeuvre whilst turning beet red and looking like the vein in his forehead was going to pop. This is Marc’s angry look and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why: Marc was suppossed to have his happy face on.
Marc bellowed, “NATASHA!!” and started flapping his left arm towards his butt. This is where the foam mattress comes in. You see, we didn’t feel her climb onto the bed the previous two times and not this time either, which for Marc, was unfortunate. Natasha had decided that since we truly seemed to be enjoying ourselves, she would join in with us and was happily humping Marc’s rear end. So there he is, flapping his arm at his butt, yelling at the dog while on top of me doing his thing with our 150 pound dog doing her thing… to him. I laughed so hard I started crying.
It took a good five minutes at least for Marc to be able to force his way up off of me and out from under our amorous dog, yelling the whole way. You have no idea how much traction a part Husky, mostly Rottie dog can get until they get on top of you and are intent on not moving. Did I mention that she was 150 pounds?
I swear from that day on, Natasha could flash that look of hers when it was our private time and no amount of, “Aww, c’mon. She looks so sad.”, from me would ever work again. That was probably also because I would be giggling each time we kicked her out.
As I said, the standing rule in our house is no pets in the bedroom no matter what. No matter how much of a schuck I might be when it comes to animals, I just don’t see that ever changing. Marc can be so unreasonable, but then again, that’s probably just me ;).
Photo courtesy of audreyjm529, used under a Creative Commons - By Attribution License
2 Comments
OMG!!! you two certainly have some stories to tell. Poor Marc!! Poor Natasha!! Thanks for the morning funnies
Hello Ange!
! Glad you enjoyed the story.
I almost called this story “Puppy Love”, but Marc nixed that one in a most definite way