Please enjoy the awakenings and poetic musings of a yogini in Texas, USA: unfolding the human experience through daily observances and nurturing a fresh childlike vision.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
The cat is named HERCULES...
So the cat. The cat is named Hercules. Without fail, the lovely fur ball will begin the morning ritual. He wanders across my chest paying no mind to my supine resting and sleeping body. He then sits near my face in an effort to be close enough to begin the process of pawing at my nose.
Sometimes he will even take steps to put his "finger" into my nose and play a masochistic game of "Pat My Master's Nostril". Most times his claw will come out and he will lightly sting my inner nostril with the claw...ARE YOU KIDDING ME! Although not painful this is not Comfortable AND I don't do this to him!!!
He sleeps 16 hours straight every day and I don't come up on him and play "Toothpick to the Kitty Nostril Game", but lately I have begun to think this is a bright idea...
So it's 6 AM and HERE'S Herky, going to town, making bisquits on my chest and working on my left nostril. Then he starts the staring contest. I come out of REM and feel the shifting in my sleep pattern. What the hell!! I become more awake and squinting ever so slightly to try and stay asleep, I see a cat point blank staring at me. If this cat had a gun I would be afraid!!! Then he turns on the purring motor to try and trick me into thinking it is love that he is after. He revs the motor a bit and seeing no results in that, comes closer, pacing around on my head and around and around and around my crown. I try the Ostrich Technique of putting my head in the sand, in this case under a blanket or pillow OR BOTH, but the paw will sneak in the pacing continues.
Most times I am able to go back to sleep and he will stop for a while until closer to 7 or 8 AM, but once a while I will hiss at him kick his ASS out and close the door. Half asleep I forget to push the door completely closed and in my stupor wonder how he magically got the door open!?!
One time I got so pissed I stormed out of bed and grabbed some kibble and tossed towards the cat bowl. It was a spray of dried bits that landed in an arc on the floor. I mean I probably just fed them around midnight, which was ONLY 6 hours ago... They don't know about 4 to six small meals a day. Who told them!! Who let the cat out of the bag ?!
The saga continues... I need to pet him to fall asleep and he thinks he need to pet awake me for breakfast.