Okay, I know, I'm obsessed. Ever since a little black furball came into my life more than 19 years ago, things have not been the same in my life. but that's a good thing.
Early this past Saturday morning, I heard a rustling in the bed next to me. Emily was getting up. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her, standing on the other side of the bed staring at the alarm clock. Suddenly she smacked it on the top with one paw - really hard - I could hear the plastic pop! Then she looked over at me with a meaningful glare.
Yup. It was the time I normally get up on weekdays! Although I hadn't set the alarm the night before, I'd forgotten about the furry alarm system. What a hoot. I couldn't help chuckling, even though I was tired and had looked forward to sleeping in. And, from her perspective, well, she was doing what she sees me doing every morning - smacking the heck out of the snooze alarm.
"Ah uh" she says. When I don't respond she repeats more loudly, "ah up" and then adds, "aroo uh?"
"No. I'm not up. I'm sleeping," I moan. "Go back to sleep, it's Saturday."
But there is no snooze button for the furball alarm, and no reasoning with a kitty who needs some breakfast. I stumble out of bed, go fix some smelly fish dish and check the water and snack bowls. Pretty soon Emily has had her breakfast and happily returns to the bedroom... to nap on my side of the bed.