Cats and Time

One of our cats, Ginger, prides herself on being the first member of our household up and about everyday.

I'm convinced Ginger takes perverse pleasure in sitting at the foot of our bed and emitting rapid fire half meows. Sort of like a rooster prides itself on waking the farmyard.

Of course Ginger had no idea that daylight savings time rolled in Saturday night.

So when I woke before Ginger Sunday morning, she eyed me suspiciously, her almond shaped eyes reduced to scrutinizing slits.

I plodded out to the laundry room and filled the cat bowl with a fresh serving of a yummy seafood blend.

Ginger sat and blinked, refusing to accept the generous breakfast. No doubt she thought I had poisoned the food. Why else would I have wakened before her?

Shrugging my indifference to whether Ginger ate or not, I continued on with my morning. Ginger followed me every step of the way, her curiosity still unsatisfied.

I settled into my recliner with a book and a cup of tea.

Aha, the opportunity Ginger had been waiting for. She jumped into my lap, draped herself across my book, and meowed her morning wake up.

Satisfied that she had finally been able to be annoying, Ginger headed off for her seafood breakfast.