Most of us wake up in the middle of the night. My favorite is waking up in the waning parts of it, with the sun threatening and maybe 52 minutes sitting in between me and my alarm. It goes without saying that i might spend a couple of those minutes pretending that i don’t need to go to the bathroom, but we all know it’s a doomed effort.
Except now as soon as my head pops up, so does another:
Oh, i’m just getting up to go to the bathroom.
That’s ridiculous, i’m going to the bathroom.
Fine, let’s get this over with. (So i walk over to the food bowl and as she digs in, i walk away).
Dammit. (So i pay careful attention to her as she noms on her food for an acceptable amount of time, and only then can i pee and go back to bed).
Thing is, i’d never had a pet growing up, so this sort of daily madness is new to me, what with our last year of living with our temporary (-to permanent?) cat. She curls up where my feet belong in bed. She sits between me and my computer until she gets a piece of my burrito. She has to be able to stare at me in the shower else there will be meowing. She turns our bedroom light on in the middle of the night if certain demands are not met. Kind of an asshole, really. On the other hand, she rolls around and bats at shoelaces, she purrs, and she meows excitedly when we near the door. Sometimes, when i walk away when she’s not done with me, she scampers after me and taps me a couple times on the leg and looks up, as if to say please? Guess we’ll let her stay.