Saturday. 5 a.m.
You stumble downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee. While the java brews, you shuttle to the bathroom near the kitchen for the usual morning business.
And this greets you.
The look needs no translation: "Buzz off, I’m trying to sleep here."
No wonder the two older cats in the house fear this little bundle of orange fur named Dr. Jekyl.
He turns up where you least expect him and isn’t too happy with the interruption.
You buy them soft, cushy cat beds at the pet store but they sleep, instead, on the cold bricks of the hearth or lie draped over the stairs in just the right place to trip you when you stumble down those stairs in the dark in search of that morning jolt of caffiene.
Or they sleep in sinks, in the dark, away from the devious plots of two older cats who seek revenge against this hellion who dared invade their space. You do your business, turn off the bathroom light and wash your hands in the kitchen sink. Some things are best left alone.
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