You'd think a cat with three names already wouldn't need a nickname (What The H?)

Time again for a guest post -- hopefully these'll appear every Sunday from here on out -- from Middle Daughter:

So my cat Stormy Jett Risotto can be a pain in the ass sometimes. I love her to death, don’t get me wrong, but for the past eleven years she has also been a ROYAL pain. The reason why I say royal is for the simple fact that she does actually think and believe wholeheartedly that she is royalty. From the moment that we picked her out from the pet store she has been walking around with her nose in the air expecting the world to bow down at her paws.

Stormy is a cat that loves attention that is when she wants you to give her attention. If I were to pet her when she did not want this “said” attention the world will and sometimes does end.

Me: Hello Norm (a little nick name that I gave her) how was your day? (As I gently pet her head)

Stormy: MEEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWW! (What the hell are you doing? Who the hell do you think that you are?)

Me: Okay my bad have it your way.

Stormy: Meow! (That’s what I thought. Walk away.)

I love her, I do…But there comes a time when one thinks “seriously come on!”

One of those times comes when Stormy expects me to get up in the morning. I am not an early riser by any means, but I have to go to work early five days a week, so I get up really early on those days. I usually get up between four thirty and five thirty in the morning so to a certain extent Stormy is used to me getting up that early.

But in her mind, I’m not getting up to work, I'm getting up to pay full attention to her. Which means that on my days off if I am not up by at least six (yes, in the A.M) she flips out. She cries at the top of her little lungs as loud as she possibly can and when that doesn’t work she tries other methods to wake me up. She will claw at my closet door to try to use the noise of the scratching to wake me up, and she has even gone as far as hitting me with her paws. (All of these silly, and, yes, pathetic, attempts do wake me up, but I pretend they don’t because I just do not want to give into her terrorism.)

Or at least, ordinarily, I don’t let her know I’m awake. This morning, however, I gave in because her last effort was so weird that I had to at least see what was going on.

So it was a little before five this morning and my alarm was set to go off at five thirty and for the past hour Stormy had been all up in my face and everywhere in my room making a ruckus attempting to get me up and out of bed so I could talk to her but I was tired and I was going to wait until my alarm went off. I was laying there about to fall back asleep when I hear this loud bang in my kitchen. I open my eyes and I hear the noise again…..again…..again….and again.

So I got out of bed and walked out of my bedroom. I heard the noise continuing as I walked, and it sounded like it was coming from my kitchen. So I went there, turned on the light and there she was…

OPENING AND SLAMMING MY KITCHEN CABINETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What the H?

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The cat shown on this post is, as you may have guessed, Stormy Jet Risotto - named that by Sweetie, who used to own her before she owned the Babies! and had to make Stormy move.