Rise and shine
Sunday mornings used to be for sleeping in and having a lazy breakfast. In those halcyon days, 6 a.m. was a time rarely seen. Unless it was just to get up, use the facilities then go back to bed. 6 a.m. was a dirty word. Then along came this guy
Chumley, for whatever reason, has his own schedule that includes loudly meowing at 5:30 a.m. then pacing back and forth for about a half an hour. Did I mention the pacing was over the top of Will and I? No? Well it is. Sometimes he throws a little nip to the arm in there as well. Not a bite, just a nip. "Hey, get up! I'm awake right now and you should be too. Give me attention...um, now?"
So like a mother with a newborn, I drag myself out of bed, check the food level and on weekends take up position on the couch with the hope that I can give Chumley enough attention to keep him out of the bedroom. Sometimes we play. Sometimes we just snuggle on the couch. Sometimes he plays with Katie, chasing each other around the apartment.
Most of the time he just goes back to sleep and I'm stuck watching crappy television.
With each passing early Sunday or Saturday I'm more convinced that having my two furkids is preparing me for the real thing. Really though, who could say no to this face?