Hubby's been out of town all week. He's the one who feeds them every morning at 5:30. When he left, he laughed and bid me good luck in feeding them in the morning (he knows I don't crawl out of bed til at least 7:00). I scoffed and told him there'd be no problem. Til this morning there hasn't been any problems... they've just waited til I rolled out of bed. Yesterday they had ot wait til nearly 10:00 (such a hard life I lead in the summers). I sleep like a zombie. Not much wakes me up until I'm ready to wake up.
Well, the cats figured out my weakness this morning. They decided that meowing and crawling all over me was not cutting it. So they had a meeting and discussed their next point of attack. They apparently decided my bladder would be the best course of action. So I awoke this morning with 20 pounds of Allen on my very full bladder. No matter, I was still in sleep mode (and like I said, not much will wake me!) I simply petted Allen, taking advantage of the boy's closeness to me.
Realizing that didn't work, they abandoned the first line of attack. Which SHOULD have worked, considering he's the heaviest kitty and all. So off when Allen and I breathed a sign of relief and drifted back to sleep.
In came the second attack. Pouncer came and plopped on my belly. Oooof. Ok, only 12 pounds... not so bad. Ahhh.... problem! He started making happy feet right on my bladder! Ummmm........ ok ok, meowmie's up! stop making happy feet! That hurts!
Lets see if they do the same thing tomorrow. If they do, I am not drinking anything past 5:00 tomorrow night!
PS: Who said cats are dumb? For the record, Pouncer used to wake me my making happy feet, but he always faced me and this morning I had a face full of Pouncer tail. He hasn't woke me up like that since Abby and Harry came here. He knew what he was doing! I swear he did!
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