Tuesday, March 17, 2009

A letter to my cat

Dear Feline,
I know you have no name, sometimes I regret that, now might be one of those times. I know for the last month I have suffered periodic insomnia, and you in your feline way have been there at 3 am, twining around my ankles, and sitting in my lap on the couch. I realize that in your walnut sized brain (one filled with pure malice and evil I might add) that you may have come to expect this as the norm. Clearly, if I am not up at 3 to fill your food dish and cater to your every whim I must have just forgotten.

Not So my furry little friend. On this most rare morning when I am soundly asleep, I wish and intend to stay that way. When I roll over, it is not an invitation to come dance on my chest (though I do appreciate your attempt at bribery by curling up and purring, I recognize what it is, a bribe to try to get me out of bed). Furthermore, if this behavior escalates to lots of running, chasing, further tap dancing, and eventually face batting to get me out of bed, to the point where I am finally driven from my rest at quarter to five, I will retaliate in kind. Though I may be out of bed I am totally NOT rewarding your behavior by feeding you or letting you outdoors. You shall be additionally punished with the scary vacuum sound and smoke as I roast coffee.

Please little furball, patience is a virtue, if you wait until my alarm goes off, or I get out of bed on my own in an insomiac haze I promise I will feed you and let you out before I roast coffee.

Your devoted owner.

1 comment:

Russell Hews Everett said...

That's why whenever she tries that I just eject her and roll over and go back to sleep...