Saturday, January 11, 2014

Children of fur

I don't often sleep late. I like to keep my routine and stick to a schedule. Occasionally, usually on a Saturday, I allow myself a few extra minutes to sleep.

Today was one of those days.

Except the cats didn't get the memo.

Rather than be annoyed, I was grateful that they were concerned enough to try to wake me. That routine I have established has clearly made an impact on their day.

I was head-butted, jumped on, pounced on, climbed on, had a wet nose touch my nose, my ear, my cheek, I was kneaded, and I heard several meows.

When my bladder could no longer handle any more pounces, I gave in and got out of bed.

I managed to squeak out thiry-five more minutes. I'm not sure how and I know it wasn't peaceful. But I'm thankful to know that my cats care enough to make sure I'm okay and that I will get up. Even if it's just to feed them. (And no, that is not what they were trying to get me out of bed for today, they had plenty of food and water.)

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