Sleep... It's Over-rated...

Have you ever awakened in the morning with a cat on your head?

Two cats let me live with them, provided... I meet certain requirements. I must offer gourmet food, maid service and a valet service upon demand.

Sometimes I sleep in... sometimes I am late meeting my daily morning commitments. At those times my cats are required to go to extremes in dealing with me. Hence sitting on my head.

Mister is my male, a black and white feral cat who discovered me and knew a good thing when he saw it. Life in the desert is usually very short but life with me is never ending. Mister is going on 15. His life revolves around naps... with the odd meal and bathroom visits. Mostly he naps.

He likes to think that he's the big Kahuna... like all males he struts... but usually he passes the chore of training me to his partner in crime. 

Magic on the other hand almost never seems to nap. She was also a stray and upon checking the "sucker hotline", a cat listing of humans to tap for handouts, she decided I was the perfect mark.

Magic is a tiny, completely black female who has tolerated me for 12 years.

I am ashamed to say... Magic is smarter than I.

She doesn't have any degrees but few can match her intelligence and few can match her ability to eat.  Her day revolves around just how much she can pack into her petite body. She likes breakfast served around 6 am.

Me... I like to sleep until 7.

Big mistake.

Magic, my cat, begins her cat alarm clock around 5:30 am, she starts scratching on a chair near the bed. I have an instinctive reaction to this and usually respond with an unintelligible garbled shout. Should this not do the trick, Magic moves on to the bathroom nearby. She puts a paw under the cabinet door (which has  automatic closing) and pulls it out slightly, then lets it slam shut. The resulting "whump, whump" has me throwing something handy, shoe, pillow, clock it doesn't matter.

I know what you are thinking... get a weapon. I've tried.

I thought I'd outsmart her with a spray bottle of water by the bed. Yeah right! Try to find it in the dark and try not to spray yourself in the face in your sleep muddled mindset. I've thought of a gun... but I like my feet, my furniture and my pictures on the wall, besides the neighbor's would complain.

Sometimes none of this works and Magic must resort to mental telepathy. She should be a government weapon... she can send mind pictures to rival the best the CIA could ever muster.

She sits on the nightstand, next to my sleeping head... and stares.

Reacting is a primal response. My inherent Sixth Sense kicks in. There is the sense that a predator is staring at me and I bolt. It's a case of flight or fight and who wants to fight with a Sabre Toothed Tiger!

"Get up, get up," her mind is saying.

Usually when this tactic is used, I bolt out of bed.

"Ah-h... you're up!" she sends back.

Still... there are the very, very few times when it doesn't work. Like last night.

As a last resort... a final, cat desperate attempt to wake the dead... she sits on my head. It is both hard to sleep and to breathe with a cat on your head.

So I get up... stagger to the kitchen and put down, two artfully arranged bowls of gourmet tidbits with proper garnishing... and wait. All this before my first cup of coffee.

If all goes well, I get my coffee. If it doesn't,  I get to open another can.

I've often thought of getting a dog but really... do I want to sleep in?