Grrr. Let's try this again. 'What?', you think. Well, I'd tried typing this out earlier, and just had been bitten by a comedy of errors that wiped out my file. But I'm not the one smiling.

Anyway, I thought I'd share what a morning is like as a servant to His Majesty, Schrodinger the cat. Make that an early morning. Make that a very early morning. Okay, fine.....extreme early. Like 3 am early.

So imagine me probably sounding like a collection of sick bagpipes in bed as visions of UFOs chasing me with strange lights wander in and out of my mind. At this time of deepest concentration, er, His Majesty decides that it's time to get some service.

The cat jumps up onto the bed, and proceeds to place his furry paws onto my belly just to see how soft it really is. This requires a slight amount of exercise on his part. Meanwhile the aliens are getting closer to me as I open my eyes to see two glowing saucers in front of my face.

"Huh? Oh, it's you." Yes, master. He wants attention, but I'm still not that far from the mothership after me in LaLa land. So I attempt to command a hand, somewhere, to dig itself out from under the covers. This is a greater feat than one might at first imagine. Seems the sheets get convoluted into strange origami while I was entertaining the ET's in my mind.

Okay. Good. My fingers find cold air hitting them. Then they find whiskers, and a cold nose. Time to Scritch His Majesty.

SNEEZE!

Thank you. Just what I needed at 3 am. Cat snot on my face. I grab a sheet from somewhere to wipe it off. Then I feel a cold cat nose on the back of my hand, wiping *itself* off. Great. Then I get a headbutt. Oh yea, I had stopped scritching. Okay, back to that again.

SNEEZE!

I'm a little more prepared this time, and miss most of it. Schrodinger yawns. Ever smell cat breath at 3 am? It's not a pleasant thought.

Hopefully now, Schrodinger will settle down. I scritch some more as the sandman sneaks into the room to cloud my mind once more with dreams of flying on loaves of bread.

The cat will have none of That though. The kneading begins again, as twelve pounds of furball stand on my internal organs, seeing how much discomfort can be generated.

"Keep the Claws in the Paws, please." That's because when the claws are out of the paws, I feel it. But Claws out of Paws are what defines kneading human organs to cats.

I really do want to go with the sandman. I do. Particularly at 3:05 AM, now. So I roll over. The cat mistakes this as a sign that I'm going to get up, and so jumps off the bed. Schrodinger looks back to make sure that I'm following. I'm not. Definitely not. Fine.

"Mrrrr?"

So he jumps back up onto the bed. This time he strokes my cheek with his paw, and just a little bit of claw. Imagine being poked by sharp needles near your eye in the middle of the night. Right. I'm awake.

Okay. Fine. So I get up. His majesty checks again to make sure that I'm following him. I am. Good. He leads me into the kitchen.

There is already food in his bowl. So I give the food bowl a little shake. "See, you already have food in your bowl." Of course, he knew that. He just wanted to have someone accompany him to his breakfast, and turn on the little kitchen light for him. Grrrrr.

At this time I get a call-of-nature, and so decide to go take care of that. Just as soon as I'm done, and am washing my hands, Schrodinger shows up, running at full tilt so he won't miss an opportunity.

Never mind that there is also water in his other bowl. Fresh sink water is the only stuff good enough for him. Yes, master. So I stop the sink up to let him drink. I turn on the faucet, and let a small pool form at the bottom of the sink. He watches intently, making sure to see those two last water droplets drip out of the faucet into the pool below. Once he sees that, then he can jump up and gently lower himself to the fresh pool to get a drink. Just like a jungle cat lowering himself to the dangerous waters of the flowing river. Right.

With that taken care of, at 3:15 am in the morning, I'm really ready to get back to bed. Just as I get all comfortable again, here comes that cat. Mind you, we both know that I am fully awake now, and there is no way that I am going to easily get back to sleep. But I'm not ready to admit that.

The process starts again. "Prrrr" Headbutt. Knead.

Fine, Okay. I'm up. What do You want, Master?

He jumps down and waits while I, once again, untangle myself, resisting the strong force of mattress gravity, to get up to follow.

I am lead through the kitchen to the back door. Oh. So, now having had breakfast, he's ready to go outside. I have to give a good yank to the door for it to free itself from the frame. That takes all the strength I have at 3:20 AM, in the morning. Then I hold open the screen door for His Majesty, the cat.

Now as you all know, going outside is a production for any cat. Schrodinger is no exception. And he knows it.

First, the air wafting in from outside must be smelled. The nose raises and twitches. There might be a strange wind, or even the smell of a dog.

"Hey, I'm getting cold here." Mind you, I don't really have much on at 3:25 am.

The air seems fine, so that means it's alright to approach the door frame. Next to the wall outside is an old plant to the right. He can just reach out and sniff it without stepping outside. Never mind that the plant has been dead since last fall. It's still is a test point.

"Would you PLEASE hurry up and make up your mind!"

Now it's time to look to the left and to the right. Is it really clear? The nights have been getting warmer here with the arrival of Spring and global warming, so he takes this as a good sign.

It's still a fifty-fifty proposition though. Finally, FINALLY, he decides to step outside. I have to wait for the tail to clear though, before closing the screen door, and forcing the back door closed from the inside.

Great. Now I can turn off the lights and get back to sleep. At 3:35 AM in the morning. Right. Too bad I have to get up in a couple of hours.

Cats...

Copyright © Brian Armstrong
May 11, 2000