This morning at 3 a.m. she started 'waking' me up...
I heard her jump down from my dresser---(which of course is her new 'favorite' place to sleep)---sounding like a 500 pound gorilla falling out of a tree.
She must have been wearing her tap shoes because every step she took sounded like 'tip....tap....tip....tap...' on her luxurious stroll to the bathroom.
Next I hear 'CRUNCH...dig,dig...CRUNCH'...(she was having a snack.)
Sylvia must have poor eyesight, because whenever she gets ready to drink her water, she tips the bowl to make the water move so she can see it.
Sounds a bit like a cap gun going off...makes my heart practically jump out of my throat.
I was still in that 'I'm-asleep-don't-ruin-it-for-me-now' haze....(hoping to go back to a really good dream I was having...)
3:45 a.m....she jumps back on my dresser, sliding out in to perfume bottles, the mirror, my change jar....
I opened one eye, waiting to hear glass breaking...nothing. I could see her silhouette in the shadowy darkness, standing there like a puma on the hunt...and she was looking at me like, 'What...?'
She waited until I was just about back to sleep, and started the 'morning grooming' session.
Lick, nibble, slurp....chew, chew...lick...lick...all the while bumping in to my Grandmother's marble based, red glass, lamp (my favorite since I was a kid).
I could hear my beloved lamp scooching closer and closer to the edge of the dresser...the thumping of the shade against Sylvia's head as she washed her foot.
I got up and moved the lamp. (she, of course swatted me as I did so...)
Back to bed...again...I am thinking I have 2 hours before I have to really be awake...and now I can't go back to sleep.
Sylvia must have sensed this as she leaped across the room from the dresser, and landed on my bed like a trapeze artist landing on the net below.
I have a big bed.
There is plenty of room for me and an 8 pound cat.
Sylvia, with great fanfare, curls up on my PILLOW with her face right next to mine...breathing little cat breaths on me...(lovely.)
I scooted her off my pillow...which apparently did not suit her.
She came back with a vengeance...purring like a lawn mower...this time walking on my side as though she is practicing her tightrope act...her claws ever so slightly digging in to my skin.
I gingerly picked her up and put her on the other side of the bed....
....and again, the purring lawnmower started advancing across the 'battlefield'.
Changing her tactics, she headed for my feet...(I knew where this was going.)
She must have thought my feet were cold as she spread her warm furry little body across them...still purring...but now digging her claws in to my ankles.
She felt like a hot water bottle with thorns.
I was awake...and NOT happy. It was 4:25...a.m.
I picked her up off my feet, and put her on the floor...she 'huffed' at me...ears back, tail swishing around furiously.
She gave me about 20 minutes...and then Sylvia started scratching the door with her nails, and 'mewing' in her baby cat voice. I knew my dog Roxy would hear her, and soon be waiting on the other side of the door...'puff barking' and wanting to get to that 'squirrel' I keep in my room.
I let her out and she did her commando run---low to the ground, stealthy---down the stairs to the front door....
I got the locks undone and got her outside just as Roxy rounded the corner...
Sylvia, once again, cheating 'death' to escape in to the night.
(It is now 6 a.m....and I am on my 3rd cup of coffee...)
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