Adventures in Knitting in the Colorado Foothills
(with a little black cat)
Friday, March 9, 2012
Neko has a clock hidden somewhere in the house—a clock without a snooze button.Even before I wake up, I feel eyes on me. It’s not quite time yet, so he doesn’t make a sound but I hear his breath on my neck.Then, at the exact same time of morning, my ear is filled with his sweet voice, howling “Me-NOW! (translated to “Get up and feed me!).Make a movement, and he jumps off the bed and runs to the bedroom door, looking back to be sure I am following him. He wants to make sure I know exactly what he wants.
Then I have the nerve to roll over and try to go back to sleep. He wanders back to the bed and sharpens his claws on the edge of the mattress. This is why we can’t ever get one of those air-mattress beds. Imagine the mattress exploding like a balloon and sinking into the bed frame. As I am struggling through the debris of the mattress, flannels sheets, blankets and comforters, I am hoping the weight I feel on the pillow over my face is not Neko sitting on it. Who knew this 10-pound runt of the litter could be so strong?