Morning Mischief

4 a.m.

A time too early

for even early risers

Darkness still fills the room,

the quiet ticking of the clock

the soft purrs of my feline friend

sprawled out and lying beside me.

My pillow perfectly positioned beneath my head;

my comforter enveloping me with warmth

one arm out

for the ideal temperature.

I drift back to sleep;

there’s still hours till I must wake

4:42 a.m.

Coarse, grainy bristles on my fingers

slightly wet and prickly,

but gentle and delicate.

I slip back into sleep

5:07 a.m.

Heavy paws lean and press

against my chest,

kneading and massaging,

slightly stabbing my skin.

There’s a tickling at the corner of my mouth.

Sensitive vibrissae brushing faintly at my lips.

The bristling barbs are back

bathing me

across my face,

my cheek,

and my nose

and my eye

and my forehead

and

my hair.

Now there’s a velvety foot on my face,

the smooth coolness of his beans,

his gentle toes retracting claws,

little whiskers on his ankle

tickling my chin.

His shedding fur floats

up to my nose and I sneeze awake

and startle my ginger tabby,

causing him to retreat off the bed.

But I call and coax him back,

and pet his fear away.

I calm his little racing heart,

and his quiet motor hum returns.

I fall asleep again

with my sweet marmalade boy at my side

5:32 a.m.

I am awoken by a sudden crash,

followed by the pattering of paws

of my carrot colored beast.

I go to investigate and find

My potted plants.

On the floor.

In pieces.

I guess someone’s hungry.

I find my orange cream friend

sitting by his food dish.

He whines and pleads

and meows and begs

so pathetically to be fed.

I flick the light on

and find his bowl

half full.

Typical cat.

I fill his food bowl the rest of the way

before switching off the light,

and I return to tend to my plants.

I stumble back to bed after

where my beast is lying,

curled up on my warm pillow,

sweet and innocent

with his huge chartreuse eyes

staring lovingly at me,

awaiting to be pet and stroked.

I’m sure he didn’t eat anything,

and I’m positive he just wanted my pillow.

I climb back under the covers,

resting my head next to his.

His cold, wet nose meets mine,

and he rubs his sleek face across my cheek.

I give him a loving stroke

and drift back to sleep.

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