Wednesdays with Mija

Among my many jobs in the family (social organizer, purveyor of love, companion, and gardening consultant to name a few), I am in charge of wake up calls. Since cats are experts at all things related to sleeping, it stands to reason that we also have expertise in the art of awakening.

 

I mean the act of waking up from sleep, but I suppose it could also mean something much more spiritual.

 

You can choose whichever interpretation you like best.

 

My people have a lot to do these days, which is why I’ve decided that they need to get up early. You know the saying about the early bird catching the worm? My people don’t always abide by it. Some days, they want to stay under the down comforter and sleep.

 

But I am persistent and I can usually rouse at least one of them. Around four or four-thirty I begin with a few, well- projected meows. As I’ve aged, my voice has ripened into a lovely, throaty Lauren Bacall sound. At this point I just want them to know that dawn is breaking. Perhaps I should say, dawn will soon be breaking.

 

They usually ignore this first attempt. About thirty minutes later, I try again. This time with more force. Some have suggested it is more yowl than meow. I prefer to think of my voice as warm and rich as a finely aged brandy. Yowl doesn’t quite do it for me.

 

If my voice alone doesn’t get someone out of bed, I resort to standing on top of my people. Or reaching out with my little white paw and gently tapping whatever part shows above the comforter. It is usually a head. I must say this technique is quite effective, though it sometimes takes as long as an hour.

 

Finally, someone grumbles their way out of bed and tromps downstairs to give me a wee taste of fish flakes. And in reply to you cynics, the flakes are secondary to my task of waking up my peeps.

Honest and true.

I didn’t ask to be fed, though it would be rude to ignore this kindness. Besides, I absolutely cannot resist Bonito flakes at any time of the day.

 

Once the coffee is perking and I know she is up for good, I make my way back upstairs, to the still-warm bed. After all this work I deserve a little nap. My tummy is full and my job is done.

 

What does it take for you to get out of bed?

 

 

 

Happy Wednesday!

 

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