I enjoy my sleep, always have. And truthfully, I’m one of those people who really prefers a gentle wake up call in the morning. Alas, I’m a heavy sleeper, so I do set an alarm — the louder and more shrill the better.
Not for my psyche, or my nerves, but to ensure I hear it and, more importantly, can’t ignore it. And I probably have some masochistic tendencies. However …
As the mother of two four-legged babies, I am usually up before the alarm goes off, because at least one of my fabulous felines gets to me first.
And let me assure you, there is nothing as sweet as being awakened by a cold, wet nose pressed against your own nose or cheek. Or the sound of a contented pussycat purring in his or her sleep. Or the feel of a soft, warm paw gently caressing your face or your arm.
Contrary to what you may believe, Bartlett and Sundance (my cats) aren’t all over me because they want food. They actually couldn’t care less about it. They just want to cuddle. They’re after hugs and rubs and whispered endearments. They want to nuzzle my neck or lay on my chest or just snuggle in close. And then, once they’ve gotten what they wanted …
Alas, like many two-legged variety of males they soon get bored with romance and disappear. In the case of my ‘boys’ it could be a visit to a litter box, the living room couch, a dining room chair, a favourite spot in a closet, the top of the fridge (don’t ask me how he gets up there) or under something.
But as brief as all the lovey-dovey stuff always is, I’m still grateful for their love. It is pure and simple and unconditional; and I can count on it lasting forever because our pets are nothing if not loyal. And really, they ask for so little in return.
Which is why it’s so easy to forgive them when they barf on my bed or use my upholstered furniture as scratching posts or hiss and scratch me when I’m trying to trim their nails. Ain’t love grand!