Our story continues ....
During Tuesday's dawn meowfest, I thought maybe it was Whitey doing the meowing, but I later realized he was at my feet -- burrowed under the quilt no less. For all I know, he slept all night under the quilt. (I think I saw saw him burrow as I went to bed, and let him go so long as he didn't pounce on me.)
Last night was a mix of Sunday and Monday nights.
Whitey was under the quilt before I even went to bed. Unfortunately, he was on my side of the bed, and he got nudged so far out of my way he decided he wasn't welcome and surfaced.
BIlly came to bed and curled up on my left side just below my arm. This unfortunately caused me to search for a clear spot for the arm for much of the night. But like Sunday, he was quiet and warm, and he let me move around as much as I needed. So, he was welcome.
Unfortunately, he woke up earlier than I did. The meowing started at 5:30. I even tried closing the bedroom door, but Billy, expert door opener that he is, went to work rattling the knob.
So I was up 6 AM, resigned to not enough sleep again.
I was so off my game (not upset, just off my game), I almost forgot to feed them. I had my coat on when I realized it, and it freaked me out. For all the jokes we make and however much they may annoy me, they do depend on me.
Pass the carbonated caffeine solution, please.
Bootsies is still sleeping upstairs, but won't be for long since she has picked up her New England cousins' early morning meowing technique.
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