I love how routine-oriented cats are. in the old apartment - or rather, previous apartment, given it was a century or so newer than the one we're living in now - Urwisek used to sleep with us, in our bed, every night. but here there's so much room and so many fun nooks and crannies that he has his own spot now.
every night around 1am he goes to curl up on this one particular chair underneath the table by the tile stove: from that spot he can see both us and the door to the room as well. he sleeps there until 6 or 7am - that is the time when he decides to come check on us, and see whether we're still asleep. we are - or if he manages to wake me up with his checking, I have to pretend I'm still asleep, or else he'll demand The Day Begins, Now. and who's ready for that at 6am.
then he goes to lie down on the east facing windowsill and bask in the sun. and then, once he decides he's had enough sun, it is High Time To Wake Up, Furless Things. so he jumps on the bed - usually stepping on my partner's head to get to me - stands right above me, and hollers with as much power as mother nature gave him.
and so I wake up, make more room for him - by squishing myself against the wall - and he lies down for half an hour of pets and scritches, and maybe a quick little nap, and only then can the day begin for all three of us.
