April 22, 2004

Someone needs to notify me when my daily routine is going to be interrupted. I have things I’m used to: the Man gets up early, ignores me, reads the papers, and then leaves. I wait a while, then go upstairs and start gently trying to get the Woman to wake up. She eventually opens her eyes, says a bunch of bad words, gets up, uses the giant litter box, and then goes downstairs to feed me. As it should be.

So when the Man does not get up early, it worries me. What if he’s late to where ever it is he goes most days? What if his not being there means they can’t buy me more cans of the Stinky Goodness? There are a lot of “what-ifs” involved, so I make the effort to wake him up. Or wake her up, so she can get him up. It’s simply pure consideration on my part.

Do they even understand this?

Phffft. I do my best and what I get in return is “Stop it, Max. Shut up, Max. I’m going to wrap your tail around your neck and make you be quiet, Max.” (Ok, honestly, no one has ever said that, but I’m pretty sure they’re thinking it.)

I swear, if they didn’t have those opposable thumbs, I’d let them rot their lives away in bed.

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