Intruding into my dream has been the rumbling sound of the morning in the form of my cat pacing around my sleeping body purring hopefully. And now it must almost be time for the alarm to go off. How she tells time is a mystery to me. She has braced her front paws on my hip as if ready to shove me into the day as soon as the alarm sounds. Her purr is mixed with barely audible chirps as if she is muttering to herself about this lazy chimp she has to rouse everyday to do her bidding.
And then there it is, music streaming from the tiny box on my dresser, calling me to my duties and yanking the last veils of sleep from over my eyes, and magnetically pulling my feet out from under the covers and setting them on the floor.
Still groggy I shuffle through the house. The cat, though desperate for breakfast, seemingly has no qualms about tripping me, and potentially breaking me, as she winds her way between my ankles now demanding with loud meows. Another reason to shuffle the feet.
Coffee is ready in the kitchen, and my husband watches as I pour my first cup, ignoring the howling at my feet and the paws reaching up to try and open the cupboard herself. One sip, a selfish act I suppose in the eyes of the furry. Then to work. Fresh water and the opening of the can that sends her into agonized circles, turning around and around with the occasional paw poking up as if willing the food dish down by use of the force.
The plate is on the floor now and she gobbles the food down without so much as an acknowledgement for the creature that has delivered it for her.
Now, I turn slowly around the kitchen and start to make a plan for lunches for the rest of the family, and plan my day, while reaching for my coffee cup.
And I notice the cat curling up on her cushion ready for sleep.... I place a toe on her hip and give her a nudge.