Simbaloney and the morning time...

I was awoken yesterday morning in the most creative way.

I have a cat.  Simba.  He is a magnificently beautiful cameo cat.  Cameo because his undercoat is completely white and the tips are tan.  He is so lovely and pretty - everyone calls him a her.   I don't see it.  He is the epitome of masculine felinity.   Muscular and thick, square chin, wide brow; he has a solid confident walk.

Simba has always had an uncanny sense of when I need to be up.  He is free fed which means he always has kibble available to him, so he doesn't typically get me up for food.  But I couldn't tell you the number of times he has been on the bed next to my head,  with his large white paws tapping my cheek, tapping my forehead.  And if I don't respond, he is licking my eyelids or my chin.  When he is really desperate, he will let his claws out ever so slightly and pricks my feet.  It doesn't hurt just enough to make me wonder why he is after me.  Then it comes to me. It's 5:55 AM and I have a 6 AM conference call.  Or I need to be at work by 7:30 and he is tap, tap, tapping to get me out and on the road.

Yesterday he changed his tactics.  He was in the other room, zooming around as fast as possible,  jumping on one of his favorite sleeping boxes and sliding it across the floor.  Scaling the cat tree and thump, thump, thumping as he rocks it back and forth on his way up.  Lastly he climbed into a paper bag with tissue paper, hunting his imaginary quarry.

The early sounds were pulling me to the surface, the last one, woke me up with a what is that?  Up to investigate and there was Simbaloney, looking up at me, ready to lead me into the kitchen.

These days preparing his wet food and my coffee making are intertwined.  He waits on his chair as I set up the filter add coffee and water then click on.  I get him a clean dish and scoop in half a can.  Rinse everything off and wait for the coffee to finish.  He takes a couple of bites, checks to make sure I am not headed back to bed and takes off.  Job done...until I am back from walking George!  And he is there on his chair to remind me everyone gets treats whether they walked outside or not.

George! has less patience.  If I don't go to the treat drawer immediately, he will wait looking at me from the the living room, then find a spot to lay down...

Simba on the other hand, has eyes which will track you everywhere.  Like one of those paintings that, no matter where you stand in the room, appear to follow you..  I'm looking at you...I'm still looking at you.  Lady, you'll figure it out eventually, but until then...I'm looking at you...

So I made it to work in time, I was grateful for his assistance.

And if he could write a blog, I imagine it would be My human and my sleeping time...  How she can't help but pet me, much to my chagrin, when I'm in a deep sleep and how every once in awhile she massages my foot and wakes me up...

Wishing you all the best

Laura

ps. iloveu