Sunday, May 07, 2006

Rise and Feed Me!!

For the past several months, we've been feeding Tigger canned cat food separately from his brothers. He has a tooth that's been giving him some trouble, and the vet seems reluctant to just pull it.

It took some time, but we've gradually fallen into a routine -- he usually gets fed at 6:30 am when Pukka gets out of the shower, again at 4:30 when we get home from work, and then again at 10:30 before I go to bed.

(Yes, I know that normally he should probably only be fed twice a day, but he only weighs seven pounds, so we cut him a little slack in that regard.)

There's just two problems with this whole feeding routine: Saturday and Sunday.

6:45 and there's a tickle of whiskers on my face. I grump and wave my hand around ineffectually. I tuck my hands under my pillow or the blankets to prevent being head-bumped and try to go back to sleep.

A few minutes later, and there's the tickle again, this time accompanied by a tentative "Brrrrt?" This time I'm awake enough to have found words. I reply, "Not before 7:30!"

A few more minutes go by, and the reinforcements begin to arrive. At any particular meal, when Tigger's eaten his fill, we put any leftovers down for the other two to finish off. (Experience has taught us that stashing them in the fridge for later consumption is a futile endeavour, even if they're re-warmed in the microwave.) Because of this, Grayboy is now personally invested in Tigger's meal schedule and around 7 am, he will join the wake-up call brigade.

Finally around 7:15 am, having had my fill of whiskers in the face and plaintive mewings, I give up and get out of bed. It's then that the kitty chorus reaches its peak, but Pukka sleeps through the whole thing. In fact, they don't even bother with him during the entire operation. They've worked out that it's a waste of time, and I'm the one to torment. I'm so looking forward to having children . . .