Sometime in the pre-dawn hours, I hear the hacking of a hairball about to come up on the pillow next to me. I realize Pete, our 16 year old tuxedo cat, is in bed with us. I say, "Pete, don't puke in the bed." For some reason, this always works and he stops. I fall back asleep.
I am awakened again, still pre-dawn, by what feels like a furry finger across one of my eyes and the bridge of my nose. I hear a furious licking. Pete has decided it is time for a pre-dawn bath and has thrown a leg over my face in his bathing contortions. He finishes his bath and gets under the covers between me and Bart.
Still pre-dawn, I am awakened by the phone ringing. This, of course, makes my heart race. Who's dead? Who's been in an accident? Pre-dawn phone calls are never good.
The final awakening is at 8:10 a.m. At least the sun is just now coming up. It is Coffee in full Bark-o-matic mode and 20 minutes early. This gives Lucky the cue that it's time to greet us with his morning exuberance.
Then, he decides "Daddy" really needs some morning kisses, too. So, he stands up, approaches Bart, and begins licking him full force all over his face. I roll over and say to Bart, I'm just laughing out loud at this point in the absurdity,"It's like having a pack of 3 year olds sleeping with us." To which Bart responds, "Three year olds get up earlier." Bart, who can sleep through anything, has missed all of this up to the 7 a.m. phone call from cheerful Brittany.
Lucky then leaps off of the bed again and begins playing fetch with himself. He accomplishes this by taking a ball in his mouth, tossing it across the room, bouncing it off of furniture, and then chasing it. This sequence repeats itself many times. It is not a quiet process, but Lucky enjoys it. It makes him so happy, I cannot tell him to stop.
I gave up on sleeping until 8:30. We got up. Bart took everyone out. I made everyone breakfast, including Bart, give Pete hairball medicine, and here we are. Hope you had a laugh!
Have a good day,