Just because I've grown comfortable with leaving my cats alone doesn't mean that I don't try and make sure they feel safe and comfortable while I'm away.

A couple months ago I had thrown a pile of jeans on the back of the couch so I could fold them after I cleaned out the lint trap on the dryer. When I came back less than a minute later, I saw that Jenny had climbed on top. I assumed that she liked laying there because they were warm out of the dryer. But eventually I saw she liked laying on top of the jeans even when they weren't warm. Months later, it's still her preferred place to nap.

And so I usually leave one or two pairs of old jeans there just for her. Especially if I'm going away for a while. If it makes her feel safe and comfortable... why wouldn't I? Whenever I check in on the security cameras, that's where she is half the time.

Then tonight... something new.

Jenny decided to crawl into the pants...

A second after the last photo, she fell out and went ripping up the stairs, but still... pretty funny.

As for Jake?

I swear he can sleep anywhere. Most mornings when I'm working in bed, he camps out on top of the cat tree in my room though...

Cats... so adorable you can't help but love them!

Until...

With the weather growing warmer, the cats have been shedding their winter coats at a frantic pace. Loads and loads of cat hair are blowing across my floor at any given moment. It's so bad that Jake and Jenny are dropping hair far faster than Carl the RoboVac can clean it up. I'd pretty much have to run the poor thing 24/7 in order for my floors to be fur-free.

But that's the least of my worries.

Jake is prone to hairballs. And if there's anything more gross than having to clean up a big wad of puked-up cat hair, I don't want to know about it. So I have been working overtime to make sure that he's brushed with The Furminator as often as possible. At least every-other-day. And, for the most part, this works great. No unpleasant surprises waiting for me when I come home from work.

But then I have to leave for three days... forget to use the Furminator when I get back... and all of a sudden a week blows by without brushing. Which means I'm likely to wake up to a massive hairball in the middle of the room.

Like I did this morning.

Poor Jake, yes.

But what about poor me trying not to hurl while I'm cleaning it up?

And that's what I keep telling myself.