(no subject)
This morning I was awakened by Zebedee yowling up a blue streak. This is unusual because Zeb is a gentle, sweet, quiet kitty and not the howling, banshee brat that is Latch. Zeb does not meow. Not for food. Not to go outside. Not to get me to stop making that godawful racket with my flute. For Zeb meowing is used in one situation only -- to tell us that we are doing it very, very wrong and need to let her out of the darn carrier. Please. When we get a moment. It is an exclamation of last resort. So I thought it was kinda strange that she wouldn't shut up this morning. I got up. Verified that the cats were not in imminent danger of starving (as defined in the Cat Constitution as having no food in the bowl) and went back to bed. For five minutes. Until she started up again. This went a few more rounds until finally I gave up and started my damn day already. I mentioned this to Yimmy because we don't have children and so have plenty of time to talk about the odd behavior(s) of our cats and he said that he had instructed Zeb this morning to not let me sleep too late because then my sleep cycle gets all out of whack and I get unhappy and make life miserable for everyone. He had suggested 9:00 a.m. as an appropriate time. Instead of getting all freaked out that maybe my cat can really understand us and if that's the case I should probably up my level of discourse I huffily inquired as to if he was going to teach her to TELL TIME ACCURATELY because she woke me up TEN MINUTES EARLY. See what he means about the sleep patterns?
- Sep
- Sep