Alarm cat
In lieu of Friday cat pictures… those who live with cats are aware that cats’ biorhythms are out of synch with housemonkeys’. The Goths have learned that I will not get up to feed them at 3 am. However, I have learned to live with Didi coming in at 5:30 or 6 to walk up and down the bed a bit and settle down for a snuggle if there’s space.
Occasionally I shut them out of the room, wanting to sleep in. Most of the time they don’t bother mrowling or scratching at the door about it; they know I mean business. This morning I didn’t think to do that, though, and I regret it exceedingly, because at 4:30 Dream hopped down from the headboard of our bed, and being parsimonious with jump energy, landed on my head, claws-out.
I woke abruptly from a sound sleep to yell “OW!” which woke my husband from a sound sleep to gasp inarticulately amid many repetitions of “wha’?” I hurled the cat to the foot of the bed (no damage done save to cat ego, and that he bloody well deserved) and got up to inspect the damage and shut them both out.
I have two fairly impressive gouges on the side of my nose. Three days before a job interview. Thanks ever so, O Alarm Cat.