Monday, 23 March 2009
The time: 0 dark 30. The place: The bedroom.
Alice the Cat: (jumps onto bed, walks across pillow) Hey! You! Wake up!
Me: Grumble... whaa?
AtC: (winding around on pillow, taking care to occasionally step on my head) My plate’s empty!
Me: (still mostly asleep) Huh?
AtC: It’s EMPTY. The PLATE! As: There’s NO food! At all! EMPTY!
Me: (rolls over, looks blearily at clock) What time is it...?
AtC: ...and if my plate is empty, well that means there might NEVER be any more food. And if there’s no more food, I’ll starve! STARVE, I say!
(Note: This is a cat who weighs in at 23 pounds, and might be charitably described as “portly.”)
Me: (snuggling back into covers) Go back to sleep. It’s too early.
AtC: (cross talk) Wasting away. A mere skeleton! Bones with scraps of fur. Oh, woe!
Me: Look, I’ll feed you after the alarm goes off. In (looks at clock again) two hours. Just like I do every morning.
AtC: (wailing) But you don’t understand... it’s empty!
Me: (silence, fakes falling back asleep)
AtC: Starve! Starve! (makes her way to the foot of the bed.)
AtC: (pouting) Well, if he’s not going to rescue me, I’ll have to fend for myself. Guess I’ll just have to kill something... like (spots object) THIS FOOT. RIGHT HERE!
AtC: Grrrrrr! (looks up, feigns surprise) Oh good, you’re awake.
(brightly) Um, the plate is empty, and I’m feeling peckish, so how about putting some food out, hmmmm? I’ll be eternally grateful!
(Gets out of bed, stumbles toward stairway with cat underfoot. At the top of the steps, cat realizes that if she kills me now, the plate won’t get refilled for a while, so stops the winding and thunders down the steps kitchen-ward.)
AtC: Food! Food! Joy!
Me: (Makes it to kitchen. Finds can of catfood. Opens it. Refills plate, noting that it’s not really empty: There are a few scraps left, but I guess those don’t count.) There. Happy?
AtC: Yum! (munching noises)
Me: (Heads back up stairs. Makes a stop at the bathroom– “since I’m already up.” Return to bedroom, to discover cat curled up in the middle of the bed’s warm spot.) Hey, you...
AtC: Go away. Can’t-cha see I’m asleep! Z-z-z-z-z!
Me: C’mon, move over.
AtC: But it’s warm...
Me: I though you were starving...?
AtC: That was then... but I’m all better now. Hey, you wanna skritch my head? Aaand my chin? Oooo, do the ears, too! Purrrr-zzzzzzz. (drifts off)
(The scene ends with Alice the Cat, curled up in a doze, and Me, staring at the ceiling as the first gimmers of dawn show through the windows, trying to get back to sleep. Sigh!)
Posted by: Crucis at 03/24/09 21:41:01 (rt5ZX)
One should never pass up the opportunity to impart a life-lesson to one's dependents. In this case, any feline who attempted to get me up to feed him would receive one free flying lesson.
It's funny: Toni always asks me why the cats bug HER to get up and feed them on weekends, when we want to sleep in. And she somehow refuses to accept the answer that I don't get up when they bug me. Like anyone else, cats go with what works.
Posted by: Mark Alger at 03/26/09 16:44:26 (TUgI4)
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