joyful2beeblogs

Strangely, I have a memory from when I was a teenager spending the night at my grandmother’s farm. I awoke to see a black cat sitting by my head, curiously staring down at me, the strange person, sleeping on her mistress’s couch.

The black cat was Inky, an indoor/outdoor cat, who was friendly and loved by my grandmother. Since I had never owned or been owned by a cat (until over 50 years later), it was the strangest feeling to awaken to a dark presence peering down on me. Little did I know, that later in my life I would have many more awakenings similar to that one.

I moved to a condominium building with a dear lady on the floor above me. I had a black cat, Norie, who often woke me up at 5 AM, when she heard our upstairs neighbor wake up. (I don’t know why my cat decided that time was a great time for me to wake up.) Thankfully, I think she just shifted to listening to her stomach telling her it’s time to wake “us” up. This new tactic gave me something to work with.

With the Daylight Savings Time changing twice each year, my wake-up time varied earlier or later because of Norie. It took time to shift her back and forth an hour, since her internal clock was not based on a government decision.

Recently, about 4:00 AM, after five hours of sleep, I awoke to the sounds of harsh winds blowing against my windows and the rain pelting the nearby sidewalk. Norie decided prematurely that it was time to wake me because she was hungry and thought it was time for her food, I guess. Interestingly enough, she was sitting by my head, looking down at me, staring at me in the dull light of my night light, like Inky did in pre-dawn light so many years ago.

A few weeks later when that method failed, Norie decided on a new tactic. She would gently paw my arm once, pause, paw a second time, then a third time, and if I failed to open an eye, she repeated the routine one more time. Finally, if I didn’t awaken, she applied just a little touch of a claw to make me wake up! I did not take kindly to being awakened in such a manner. So I said sharply and loudly, “NO Claws!”

When she understood that I was not happy with her method of awakening me. She started scratching my sheets. When she continued this, I told her, “No Scratch My Bed!” Next time she scratched at my sheets, I picked her up and put her outside my door in our hallway.

When I finally woke up in the morning, we went to the bathroom, where I washed my face to wake up. Next, I weighed myself. When I pulled the scales away from the wall, Norie alwats checked for bugs. (All we ever had was a rare silverfish.) But she dutifully checked for them every day and scrutinized the perimeter of the bathroom for any bugs. I praised her and told her how wonderful she was for protecting me from the bugs. Sometimes, she acted like she was chasing a bug when I know there really wasn’t one!

Sometimes after she went to the kitchen, I climbed back in bed and pulled the covers up to try to fake her off. But soon I felt and heard her jump up on the bed and sit and stare at my face or start scratching the bed sheets! She knew not to do this but still did it. So I picked her up and put her in the hallway and closed the door after reminding her that she was not supposed to scratch my bed!

When there was no other chance of sleep, I got up and went to fix her food and get my medicines and breakfast. Sometimes, I even went back to sleep after sitting up a few minutes. Sometimes soon after the Daylight Savings Time changed she would do this at 5:00 AM. Often I could just tell Norie in a very drowsy voice, “Norie, I have to sleep. It is too early. Go eat the dry food in your bowl.”

That actually worked well. She would leave me alone to return to my sleeping. But I would lie there and start wondering if there really was dry food in her bowl, left over from 10 PM, when I last fed her. So then I would haul myself out of the bed to go check if my assumption was correct or not.

After I turned on the kitchen light sometimes there was actually food still in the bowl. I wanted to be sure the food level was enough to keep her 14 pound body from “pitifully” shrinking.

If there was food, I told her, “Norie, eat your food! It’s too early to feed you again.” If there was no food, I would feel guilty for lying to her and for making my “poor, starving cat” go in the kitchen, like I told her to, and find no food! So I would add a few pieces more of the dry food to satisfy her stomach so I could sleep!

Later, in the morning she returned and hopped back up on the bed and snuggled her rear end against my shoulder. As if to say, “I ate enough dry food. You don’t need to feed me now. I just feel snuggly.”

Somehow we (I mean she) has established a safe, fairly reliable system for waking me up. Getting older, taking medicine and familiarity have helped form a truce between us. I loved my Norie.