My mornings go something like this:

4:30 AM:  My cat/rooster Scarlett bats at the closed blinds in my bedroom as the sun rises so that I will open them for her.  I oblige because she will continue batting at them, which makes noise as they hit the window, until I open them.  Evidently, she likes to keep tabs on the early morning activity outside my apartment.

6:00 AM:  My cat/toddler Gus begins meowing to be fed as he circles my bed.  I try my best to go back to sleep and ignore him.

6:59 AM:  Gus is sitting on my bed, staring at me, waiting for my alarm to go off.

7:00 AM:  My alarm goes off and I reach over and turn it off.

7:00:03 AM: I roll over to catch a few more moments of shut-eye and am immediately disturbed by drill Sargent Gus pacing back and forth across my bed (and over my stomach/chest), purring on maximum volume.   I think this is his way of singing “rise and shine, meal ticket!”

This morning at about 7:01, after my alarm went off, and as I lay with the covers pulled up to my chin and my arm across my chest, I felt a little paw reach out and tap my hand.  Guess who it was?

This is getting ridiculous, especially because this is how the rest of the day typically goes:

10:00 AM: Morning group nap on their beds.

2:00 PM: Early afternoon nap on the floor.

4:00 PM: Late afternoon nap on the wing chair.

6:00 PM:  Early evening nap on my lap.

8:00 PM: Late evening nap on my bed.

I’m so glad that this is how they spend their days so that they are alert, disruptive, and demanding in the early morning hours.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump