Monday, October 1, 2012

My Body Ain't The Highway!

     I am slowly coming awake, aware that the grey dawn of morning is rising. I don't want to get up, warm and snuggled beneath the open window under the covers....But something insistant niggles: I'm on my side, when Someone at the Foot of the Bed begins the journey along the ridge of my curved body.....This someone  is light.....Mini or Player--not heavy, like Tramp, or Buddy, my Maine Coon, or "medium", like Batman.....In annoyance I shift my body to shake Whoever off. Whoever clings at first, then obediently drops to either side of me: This is my morning ritual activating: Somehow they sense I am awake, and like an abundance of loving children gathering at Mom's bedside, with giggles, urging: Time to Get Up! Time to Get Up!--they are on time, as scheduled. Any number of 9 cats, six of which regularly sleep on my bed. (And I thought, when I acquired my full-size bed---I'd have more room, Ha. I guess it's me they like, not the bed). Scooby Do, my rescued abused Giant Orange, is not to be overlooked, but either he has more sense than to tread the ridge, or knows he must wait his turn. Since this morning trek tends to hurt my arthritic bones, I wobble the ridge from side to side, up and down, trying to dislodge the Traveler.... No matter what, I can't seem to get the idea into the heads of the others that my body is NOT the highway to my face!
     It's so funny how they "vie" for my attention. Player, the small Siamese who sleeps in the crook of my neck, knows she is my fav, but still, I try to convey that to each of them. Mini, my small striped shorthair, who sleeps by my shoulders, instantly lays herself across my chest and shoulders to bar All Comers, and stares firmly but regally from her high position, warning trespassers that at the moment, I am hers. Wild Thing, the cross-eyed Siamese, holds back, wanting so badly to be mine. Tramp, the black American longhaired Bobtail, is in the mix advancing. Batman, my Tuxedo, gives up and jumps off the bed, only to be replaced by Kitling, half Ragdoll, who has begun coming in at night. And so it goes, a pet and a word to each one, and then,
     "Ok, Enough, Enough!"
     I am reluctantly up. They have succeeded.

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