Post 300: sleepyheads and their morning routine

We got up early today, about 1:30 or so. By “we”, of course, I mean “they” – Andy and Dougy – got up early, then tormented me till I got up. The boys wanted to be fed early! I made them wait till 2:30, and, I assure you, no cats got substantially scrawnier for the extra hour’s wait!

I made myself some coffee and waffles for breakfast, then watched the news after feeding the cats.

Andy climbed on his favorite morning perch beside me on the end table.

Andy resting on back_edited-1

Dougy whined and moaned about something. I asked him, per morning ritual, “What’s the matter, Dougy? Timmy in the well…again?!” (It’s one of two jokes the cats and I have. The other is when I say “woof-woof” to them. You have to be there…!)

I, of course, knew what was on Dougy’s mind: he wanted to play “feather toy”! After a bit more teasing, I pulled out his toy, and Dougy bounced and rolled around, tearing up the front room catching, chewing, mauling his favorite toy. Andy doesn’t get it. Oddly enough, he doesn’t get involved in play until well into the game.

By 5:30, I was sick of “Morning Joe” and Joe Scarborough. I decided to roast some coffee beans. I sat on my bed, under the fire alarm, because I’ve had problems with fire alarm hyper-sensitivity. Roasting coffee beans produces enough smoke it sets off the alarm! In Winter, anyway. In Summer, I can open windows and doors, turn on the vent fan, and usually avoid the alarm.

Andy saw me on the edge of my bed, broom at ready to push the reset button on the alarm. He thought I was going back to bed and acted like that wasn’t agreeable with him. He looked stressed by the fact I was on my bed! This may be a response going back to a year ago when I spent lots of time in bed because of illness. The boys would bring their toys into my bedroom and leave them by my bed while I slept. I’m still touched by the thought of it.

Anyway, the alarm went off, the boys ran helter skelter, I punched the reset button, but my roasted coffee bean supply is assured for four or five more days.

I returned to the front room to watch a little Home and Gardens programming before dealing with this post and all of the e-mails piled up in my account. I fell asleep.

When I woke up three hours (I think) later, Andy’d nested in the clothes dryer, and Dougy’d snuggled up in the top one of the stacked cat carriers by the recliner. We’d all took a morning nap!

I like my cats when they just wake up. They wake up happy and sweet. Dougy’s always up for ear rubs and chins scratches, so it’s no big deal he wakes up sweet. Even Andy, my little cynical cat, wakes up forgetting he’d rather not be scratched on his tummy, something he truly likes if he’d just let himself indulge in the pleasure.

I’m more like Andy. As long as no one expects too much of me until I sort out being awake, I’m happy when I wake, too.

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12 thoughts on “Post 300: sleepyheads and their morning routine

  1. Ha! I use the “Timmy down the well” joke with my dog when he fusses at me! πŸ˜‰ πŸ˜€

    Also, when I let him out the back door, I say, “Write if you get work. Include some money.” He just looks at me funny! πŸ˜€

    I am like you and Andy…I like to sort out being awake. Give me a few minutes and I’m rarin ‘ to go! πŸ™‚

    HUGS and Happy Whee-kend to you and Andy and Dougy! πŸ™‚

    • I especially like the “write if you get work. Include some money,” doggy joke! Still laughing!!! Many times, I’m tempted to tell the boys to get their own supper, but I think Andy is clever enough to work out how to get into the refrigerator, but lacks the strength. It would be a disaster if he worked it out!

    • Rubbing cat bellies, I know from your recent post of Ali sleeping on her back (so sweet!), is something you have some expertise in! Speaking of that, I just made a short video of me assaulting Dougy’s sweet, tempting tubby belly! Ha!

  2. You are a saint, Weggieboy! I’ve always made my cats wait until I was good and ready to get up before they received their breakfast. (Although, I must admit that sometimes they were the reason I was good and ready to get up.) Most of them were cool with this. but I had one cat who, every Saturday and Sunday, would wake me up by scratching on the sides of the fiberglass bathtub. It was my weekday routine to shower before feeding, so on the weekends he’d wait until an hour or so past the normal alarm clock time, and then hop in the tub and scratch furiously to tell me it was time to get the show on the road. Every cat gives us special memories. Every cat teaches us how to live in harmony with it. We just have to listen. And now I will beat back for the 60th time in 60 days the urge to go adopt a new cat TODAY. I miss my Sparky.

    • πŸ™‚ I can appreciate what you say, NebraskaANN. After the boys’ predecessor died, I felt like a failure as a cat buddy. Louie died 22 months after I got him. Another cat, Freckles, died within a month or so (after being spayed). When I got Andy, he was sick, as was Dougy when I got him. I seemed doomed to have sick, dying cats around me! Fortunately, both Andy and Dougy (after $1400 worth of veterinarian bills) survived. They’ll be three years old on July 1st. Even now, I’ve had them longer than the previous “record” of 22 months for Louie. The curse may be over! As for you getting a new cat, as nice as it is to have the little fuzzy masters around, they do limit or put challenges on things like travel. The older I get, with my medical history, too, I worry a bit about what would happen to them were I to die or become incapable of having pets before they die.

      • I’m at an age where that is a concern to me, too. I about fell off my stool when the vet told me indoors cats can live to be 25. I’m a Mad Men fan and I love the scene where Peggy and her mother discuss dating. “You’re lonely?” the mother asks. “You get a cat. After 13 years, you get another one. You get another one, and then you’re done.” Measuring life in cats. I could relate.

      • I waited until I retired to get a cat. Other than tropical fish, a turtle or two, and a dog when I was a kid, I didn’t have pets. Part of that hesitancy related to the difficulty I had (and have) dealing with their short life spans. I suppose the turtles would’ve been around still had I been a better guardian at age 8 or 9.

    • Yeah, Dougy really, really, really reverts to kittenhood when it comes to play, and the feather toy brings out the most playful side of him! I feel bad that Andy is less playful, but that’s his personality. He’d rather play cat games with his brother, though he sometimes makes Dougy squeal like a little piggy, he gets so rough. No hard feelings between them, though. They are brothers and best buddies!

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