A man and his cat

I woke up this morning at 4:01, exactly one minute after I sleepily snooze the alarm on my phone. It wasn’t the sense that I needed to be productive or make coffee or begin the day. No, the thing that woke me up was the whisker and the wet nose of a hungry kitty.

She can hear my alarm from anywhere in the house. When she does, she makes snoozing impossible. Today, my elbow was hanging over the edge of the bed, so she chose to nuzzle until I was well awake. Last weekend, she was more direct, climbing up my legs and sitting her 12-pound fluff on my chest. She topped it off by sticking her whiskers in my face.

Oh, I’m sorry, does that tickle? Were you still sleeping? It’s a REALLY good thing you’re not anymore because I’m hungry.

I walk out of the bedroom, and she begins to talk.

Hello! Good morning! I’m so glad you woke up! Did you know my bowl is empty? 

Once I’ve fed her and have absolutely nothing to do because, well, it’s 4:03 in the morning, that’s when my only early day companion chooses to ignore me. She finds the basement or attic or anywhere but the living room and hides until she hears me moving about, beginning my real morning routine.

  
Oh, you’re moving now. That’s great! Would you mind turning on all the faucets, watching while me drink, then playing with me but only after you’ve petted my wet head? 

So, that’s a no, then? Ok, I’m going to chase you now–through the place where you eat food; back to the couch where I wish you’d stop sitting and let me chase you; up the stairs and into the … wait, where did you go? I bet you’re in … yep, I hear you! It sounds like you’re running a really BIG faucet… I could drink from there… hey let me in, please, please, pleeeeeeezze…

Getting out of the shower produces the same result every single morning. I can guarantee she’ll be swiping–not scratching–at the door, wondering when she’ll have the chance to decide she doesn’t like the upstairs shower after all and is really just interested in drinking from the over-sized sink.

From there, it’s a combination of play and getting ready to leave. There’s a window facing the driveway, parallel the do side door I normally leave from to go to the train. A few weeks ago, we noticed that the cat would run up and stand with her paws on the sill, with her little ears, nose and eyes just high enough to see us. So, I moved an unused ottoman from the living room to the window where she could stand and see me off.

Hey, you know chasing you is fun but can’t you at least put a string in your back pocket or something for me to chase instead. Now THAT’S fun. Wait… where going? No not the doo… WINDOW! I see you. MEOW. Ahhhhhh don’t go. Ok bye.

  

Within minutes, Kelly usually texts to tell me the cat is still standing by the window, sometimes meowing. When I get home, she’s either on my chair in the living room or no where to be found. Apparently, she doesn’t spend much time hanging out with my better half, and would rather sleep until I’m home to start the ritual over again. 

 

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