bourbonneat: (Bourbon Neat)
The Tattle Tale Calico

Oft upon an hour early, while I sit word-stuck and surly,
Trying desperately to pry the copy from my head,
My fingers eager to be typing, while my brain continues sniping,
Suddenly there comes a griping, from the cat upon the stair.
An obnoxiously loud demand from the cat upon the stair.
Yowls the calico, “Go to bed.”

Quiet, I call, I know the hour, but her mood remains quite sour,
As words finally begin to flow to the page from my head.
But my concentration she is breaking, with the demand she’s loudly making,
My husband she is surely waking, this plaintive cat upon the stair.
This annoying little tattle tale cat upon the stair.
Yowls the calico, “Go to bed.”…

Yes, yes. I totally mixed my Poe references here. But, let’s be honest. Reading this, you know that’s the very least of the apologies I owe the man. ;)

Anyway. My cat. I have a large calico cat with a larger voice and an even larger self-imposed sense of responsibility for the hours the household keeps. She really feels we all ought to be in bed – all including herself – by midnight and begins sighing, huffing, and attempting to lead us to the stairs about that time every night. But she graciously concedes that we are night owls and doesn’t really begin her loudest demanding until about 2.

It’s hysterical…and annoying. Any time someone is still awake at 2 – which in my case is nearly every night – the cat will come to the stairs and begin yowling with increasingly louder volume for us to come up to bed. So clockwork is her behavior, that our friends have come to rely on her for timekeeping when we have game nights. ‘I bid 500 florin on recruitment card.’ Or ‘Any takers on these sheep? I really need some brick.’ And then the cat starts yowling and we all know it’s 2…time to open another bottle of wine, game for another two or three hours and really piss off the cat. ;)

She is especially bad when only I am still awake and trying to write. Then, not only does she come to the stairs to yowl at me, but she periodically runs to the bed to yowl in my husband’s ear, seemingly trying to alert him to the fact that I am still awake and really ought to be asleep. Obnoxious little tattle tale. It’s not like he doesn’t know his wife is an insomniac and the poor man certainly deserves to be able to sleep without a loud furry interruption. Oh well. At least she cares?


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January 2015

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