Max is an extremely verbal cat; he talks a lot, and mostly to me. I've learned what particular meow means "Hey, feed me," "What'cha doing?" "Get Buddah away from me" "Um, I'm trapped in the closet" "I'm singing for you, deal with it," "Die already!" and "I need help."

I woke up at 4:30 this morning, hearing Max in another room meowing, and it was definitely "I need help." I forced myself awake, and he was talking nonstop, as if saying "Hey, someone come out here. Please? I really need you help. Someone come help me."

So I got up. He obviously wasn't singing to hear his own voice, and it didn't sound like Buddah was the problem. His fountain broke yesterday, and he might have been crying because it was leaking again. He gets upset when he throws up in the middle of the night, so he might have been upset that his hairball was going to sit there and disturb his inner peace. Maybe he was stuck on top of the fridge and afraid to jump down. He needed help and I wasn't taking the chance that it was important.

I plodded out towards the living room, listening for him; I found him in my office, in his own bed. He was stretched out there, his chin resting on the edge of the wicker basket.

Facing the fireplace.

He wanted someone to get up and turn the fire on.

I got up at 4:30 in the morning because he needed help, and it was needing help to turn the freaking fireplace on.

Damn cat.

Oh yeah, and the useless fireplace tools are going to stay, because it occurred to me they're not so useless. They hide the switch that turns the flame on, and since Max has already demonstrated the ability to flip a light switch...

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