18 August 2012
Clearly, he did not want to share the bed, even though I was no where near him and not disturbing him in the least. I curled up and read for a while, turned off my iPad around 1:30 and went to sleep.
Four thirty in the freaking morning Max jumped up on the bed, meowed right into my ear, sounding almost panicked. Still, I rolled over, assuming he was just being a butthead...but instead of staying there and bugging me--what he usually does--he jumped down and I hear him running.
Ok, fine, this is not normal and on the chance that something was wrong, I got up.
He was hiding in the bathroom, hunched down on the floor close to the vanity, where he could see out the door. This certainly wasn't normal, but my best guess was that Buddah was stalking him and he was just trying to protect himself.
I headed down the hall to the living room, and he scurried behind me. Buddah, however, was stretched out on a chair, sound asleep.
Nothing else was out of order, but just in case, I went from window to window and looked outside, then went to the back door and turned the patio light on to check the back yard.
Max was still acting odd, so I sat down in the living room and waited, on the off chance that he really had seen something or someone out there. I left the lights inside off so that I could easily see outside, and while he sat at the back door staring out, I kept an eye out for movement or shadows, fairly sure I'd see absolutely nothing, and when I was positive, I went back to bed.
Max positioned himself halfway down the hall, and meowed his little head off for a good fifteen minutes.
An hour after he woke me, I drifted off again.
Twenty minutes later, he was in the bedroom doorway, registering a complaint about something or other; I didn't care to get up to see what was bothering his royal highness.
He stomped off, I rolled over.
Fifteen minutes later he was back, on the bed, sitting by my head, determined to tell me a long and complicated story that if I would just listen, he seemed sure I would understand.
He kept at it, off and on until nearly 7:30 this morning, letting me almost fall asleep and then either shouting from the hallway or jumping on the bed to talk to me. I had high hopes that when the Spouse Thingy got home from work and fed him, Max would finally shut up.
And he did.
But...post-breakfast I am Max's bed. He tends to come into the bedroom and crawls on top of me, where he snoozes until I get up. This morning, I must have been a mattress that's a tad too lumpy, because he could not get comfortable. He plastered himself one way, then got up, turned around, laid back down...over and over.
Once or twice I gently pushed him off and told him to sleep on the actual bed and not me, but apparently I was speaking a foreign language and to him it sounded like "Sure, stomp all over me, I don't mind at all."
I think I did sleep for a while with his face resting on my cheek, one paw jammed into my throat, but by 9:30, I gave up. He willingly slid off me when I wanted to get up, he followed me into the bathroom because I am apparently not capable of managing my morning goings-on without him--I might forget what order I need to do things, and trust me, he knows the order of things and directs me to them--and then he followed me into the living room.
Once satisified I was where I usually sit in the morning, he turned around and went back to bed.
He's sound asleep and has been for the last three hours, and I am working hard to resist the temptation to go in there and start talking right into his ear, then spend the day waking him repeatedly by bouncing on the bed and breathing right into his face.
Irony, I don't think he gets it.
I also don't really blame him, because I knew when he first woke me up that it was likely a false alarm; he just wanted me up and knows how to accomplish that.
Tempting. Very tempting.