12 April 2012
She knows it's breakfast time. She's been out all night hunting, chasing shadows and stalking small creatures. As the sun rises, she heads home because soon it will be breakfast time.
She finds my room and curls up on my belly. Her purr gets louder and more persistent as she gets excited knowing soon I'll wake and feed her.
When she was a kitten she used to try to wake me by tapping my lip with her claw, licking my fingers with her scratchy tongue or playing with my hair. She even would sweetly stroke my face with her paw but I'd say "No Greedy Gracie Guzzle Chops, it's not breakfast time yet. Go back to sleep."
Now she's older, she knows, when the alarm goes off its breakfast time. So she waits for the noise to sound and some times nudges my mobile with encouragement.
When the alarm rings, she leaps off the bed. She waits by the door for me to wake and join her. She races me down the stairs and twirls around, as I pick up her bowl, her curly tail in happy circles. As I wash up, she impatiently taps the cupboard with the food. As I pour the food into her bowl, she stretches her body up towards the counter top, reaching excitedly for what is her. As I place the food on the mat I have to remind that the other bowl is her sisters.
At the weekend when I don't set the alarm on my mobile, Greedy Gracie Guzzle Chops will wake me without fail with hungry little meows. They are a much prettier sound to wake to than my work day alarm.
I best go feed her, snooze is about to go off. Otherwise, Grace will start complaining and thats not a sweet meow.
Tummy O'Clock • Opuss № I