Day 9 - Animals

 ANIMALS

Prompt - Animals : Choose an animal, write about it

I demand routine, I demand difference.  But more routine than difference.  If I've not been shut out, and it's abundantly clear that NOW is breakfast time, I'll go and see him.  She never wakens, or pretends she doesn't, so I gave up on that a long time ago.  But he can be made to respond.  I walk over him a bit, then settle down for while, give him time to come to and take the hint.  If he starts stroking me I at least know he's awake.  But he usually needs a bit more prompting to come round to my way of thinking.  

Rise up, stretch, stomp a bit, paw the duvet cover a bit.  That can sometimes be enough.  If not it's time for more extreme measures.  Walk up the bed, close in to his dopy head, and circle the pillow.  Be loud.  Having a drink from his bedside glass of water is a useful tactic, he doesn't seem to like that much so it's almost guaranteed a reaction.  Almost.  If all that has failed, and there's no sign of a foot sliding to the floor, I have to go nuclear and start flicking the blinds.  He'll shout my name, I'll do what I do best and ignore him, and only when there's a clear sign of him becoming vertical will I jump down.  And look at him.  Cutely.   He loves a bit of cute.  Stupid man.

If I'd been shut out for earlier misdemeanors I have to be patient.  I can do patient if needs be.  But he needs to know just how much he's inconveniencing me, so I'm there as the door opens, I'm vocal, and he better be waking up quick because I won't let him get down those stairs without a bit of furry obstacle avoidance.  (Although that's a tactic to be used sparingly, because I don't want him falling down stupidly and injuring himself - who'd feed me then?)

So he slops down my breakfast.  I really like the flavour of that stuff he adds for my teeth, and they work well with those tablets he splits up over whatever mush I've got going for me today.  And then, with breakfast out of the way, it's time for the first big decision of the day.  Where to sleep?  In the middle of the upstairs hallway is a good one, it's fun being half aware that they are always having to step round or over me.  And other days I like the darkness and solitude of that strange wardrobe, curled up beside the big box.  Even if one of them opens the door they hardly ever notice me.  I can hear them searching sometimes, and I think good thoughts.

Getting up time is around four.  I might have moved somewhere else for a bit of variety, a gentle stretch, but now it's time to warm up for the next beg event of our day.  Stretch and stretch, strut about a bit, and seek out the humans, remind them that their sacred duty is due to be served soon.  If I'm being ignored I have ways.  My favourite is when he's at this desk, looking at whatever nonsense comes off the big panel of light.  It's much better for him to be looking at me, but he doesn't always seem to realise that.  Stupid man.  

They might know when it's time, but be forgetful.  So it's as well I'm there to remind them, to tell them exactly what they should be doing, and get that empty saucer up and replaced with something new, fresh, tempting.  And gone in seconds.  What would be the point in waiting?

And suddenly it's time once again to think where to sleep for the next few hours.  All this decision making is tiring, so I make for somewhere really comfy.  A discarded hoodie is a good one, with a familiar smell and residual warmth already in place.  Why does he never see the wisdom of my choice?  Stupid man.

How long I'll stay there depends on how tiring the day has been so far, and if I think they deserve my company.  They used to have strange people appear, some noisy and rude, others who gave me the appreciation I deserved, but that was long ago now.  If they've been good I'll go down, circle for a bit, make sure I'm noticed (properly noticed) and choose a lap that looks like it needs me.  Lucky people.  On a good night she has a bit of wool out, and moving, for me to play with.  Kind of her.  He never does anything like that.

And then it's time for the holy trinity to be realised.  Supper.  I love the crunchy bits he adds then, to round out yet another full day of catting.  Time for a sleep.  Somewhere close to where they lay down, so I have the option of somebody warm if needed, and not far to go if he's not yet realised what time it is.  And so the cycle begins again, for without me how would he manage?  Stupid man.