Michael is Trouble.

sleeping

Last night, at midnight, Michael was downstairs yowling as if his heart was breaking. Then he switched over to a distressed mewing blended with a more aggressive growl. When I went down there to see what was going on — hobbling, cold and annoyed — he was sitting in the middle of the kitchen looking at me like I was the loony. He gave me a little chirp. “Prr?” “What are you doing here?” I went back to sleep.

At 3:00, I woke up to find him staring at me from the edge of the bed. Do his eyeballs have special powers? Why did this wake me up? Anyway, he continued to stare at me until I moved over to the left and let him get under the covers to sleep near my shoulder.

Sometime between 5:00 and 6:00 I heard him running up and down the stairs, and then he went into John’s room and started meowing in there. I’ve long suspected that he wakes John up on purpose because once John’s awake, everything gets started for the day. It didn’t work today, but it has in the past.

Michael doesn’t have a job, so he’s sacked out in my office with his underpants showing and will presumably stay like that for the rest of the day. Why do we live with these ridiculous creatures? A dog would never behave in such an insolent fashion.

3 thoughts on “Michael is Trouble.

  1. Nah, I think dogs do too. Cats are just more confident about it. I literally have to have a chair with my laptop bag on top of it for one of my cats to sit on. Otherwise, he’ll post himself in front of my monitor as if it’s the only other place left to sit in our apartment.

  2. Oh, dogs …. perhaps you haven’t spend enough time with Sampson. He comes into our bedroom in the morning and gives us a cold hard stare until we wake. After going out to do his business, he comes in and stands in the kitchen, first wagging his tale with a goofy, expectant grin. If we haven’t had our coffee yet and aren’t alert enough to recognize what that doggy language means, he begins to bark. Not quiet little “oofs” but loud, wake up the kids barks. If we tell him to be quiet, he walks right up to us and wipes his big (and likely muddy – he just went out after all) paw right down our leg. “Treat, you idiot! Give me my treat!” is likely what he’s saying. And Molly, well, she must be a cousin of Michael!

    • All I can think about here is: holy smokes, your kids sleep later than you. That seems like science fiction to me! But at least you have Sampson to keep you on track.

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