Half-eleven, and the cats are more or less watered and fed, and the vilenesses of their poo has been dealt with. My instructions are arcane, to say the least. There are cats who prefer to eat downstairs, cats who prefer to eat upstairs and one weirdo (who often lies in wait on the top of the stairs so she can claw my scalp to ribbons) who likes to have her food - wafer thin slices of crap ham, no less - thrown at her from across the room. When leaving the cats downstairs for the night, slices of turkey are to be thrown in a warding gesture, to delay them long enough to make it out the door. When turning off the light they must be wished goodnight, in these precise words: "Nighty-night."
Someone tell me this isn't my future.