The cat woke up its owner every night and forced her to go to sleep on the couch. She complained of insomnia, until one day she took a test.
At night they call me often. For some reason, people believe that if you are a veterinarian you are obligated to answer every question in the universe. Especially at two in the morning, half asleep, with a cat lying on its chest.
But that call was during the day. And yet, there was such nocturnal fatigue in the woman’s voice that I looked at the clock automatically. As if I could be wrong.
— Good morning, is it Pedro’s clinic? — The voice was cautious, as if waiting for him to bite her.
— Yes, the clinic. Peter speaking.
— My name is Carmen… I have an appointment today. I have a problem with my cat. It doesn’t let me sleep.
«Problem with the cat» and «it won’t let me sleep» it’s a huge territory. Everything fits there: from fleas to an existential crisis.
— Come and we’ll see, — I told him. — Here we treat animals and also insomnia.
Carmen entered the office like one enters a church: in silence, almost with guilt. A woman in her early fifties, with a well-groomed hairstyle, a coat “to go out”, no “to go get bread”, and a bag from which she never leaves: that’s where her whole life goes.
He carried the carrier as if it were a porcelain box. The porcelain moved with disgust.
— This is Marcos, — said. — Although at night he is no gentleman. She looks more like a nurse on call.
He placed the carrier on the table. Two huge yellow eyes looked at me from inside. A large, gray, fluffy and heavy cat, with the expression of someone who has already seen it all. He evaluated me, decided I posed no immediate threat, and turned around with dignity.
— Okay, let’s see the “nurse”, — I said. — Tell me.
Carmen sighed as if she were going to complain not about the cat, but about the community of neighbors.
— Wakes me up, — said. — Every night. Not gently, but insistently… insistently. Around three or four. First he touches my face with his paw. If I don’t react, stronger. He can bite, pull the blanket, run over me. He doesn’t calm down until I get up and go to sleep on the living room couch.
— And do you like the sofa? — I asked for.
— There she calms down, — she said annoyed. — As soon as I leave, he lies down on my pillow in the bedroom and sleeps until morning. And me, on the couch. I already hate it. I slept there when my husband snored. While alive. Now the cat has replaced him.
Marcos pretended that the conversation was not with him.
— Since when has this happened?w
— About three months. At first I thought: spring, hormones. Then the heat. Now it’s autumn and it doesn’t stop. Before he slept with me, like a normal cat. Now he kicks me out.
She remained silent and added, looking to the side:
— I have high blood pressure, Pedro. I take medication. I need to sleep. I work as a property manager: we have only one elevator, that’s a separate story… And I walk like a zombie. I’ve started to get angry with him. A couple of times I locked him in the kitchen: he screamed so much that the neighbors were banging on the wall.
