Dear Yowler,
It’s time to go over the rules again, as apparently you’ve forgotten the basics of living with me, Cin, the official purveyor of breakfast, lunch and dinner:
Just because the sun has risen, it doesn’t mean it’s time for breakfast. 4:30 is unreasonable. I don’t care if the birds are up, go back to bed. You are smarter than a bird, right?
If your tummy alarm will not go to snooze, you may GENTLY paw me. No claws. And certainly no repeated back-of-the-head-whackings, as there were this morning.
Cat-fights are not allowed on the bed. Particularly not anywhere near my head! if Cleo is already sleeping on the pillow above my head and you want that spot, too bad! Do not start biting her heinie in an effort to oust her - the tiny terror will fight back, and the noise and flying fur will wake me just enough to get me to snarl incoherent Spanish while unceremoniously tossing you both out.
…did I mention the no-claws policy? From here-on this policy will be aggressively enforced. I am considering mittens.
That is all.
Mittens for the kittens (Sorry, I couldn’t resist.). “Purveyor” I’m diggin’ that word. I might have to use it somewhere during the day’s opywritery. Hmmm…
My cat likes to let out this shrill Meow that actually hurts. I’ve used strange language on her, too.
oy, cats. Can’t live without them, hard to live with them.