Once I owned a cat that was allowed sleep in my bedroom. In no time she worked her way up from the footboard to my pillow. She was chronically bad-tempered and and often gave me palpitations by hissing maliciously in my ear in the middle of the night. Been there, done that. Not to be recommended. So Pernod and Chatblis have learned to sleep in another room. But somewhere just before dawn they post in front of my bedroom door and wait.
I swear they can tell whenever I open one eye. From the moment my eyelashes start moving the air around the bed, my cats start yelling. There is no such thing as a snooze button. As soon as I open the door, they take me to their food bowls for their daily rations. Once the food is in the bowls they immediately loose all interest and lead me into the kitchen with their flattery. There is no way out.
The fulfillment of their true morning wish is waiting there: their vitamin drink. It is of high importance to supply them with this juice immediately and in the correct manner. Protocol: first give Pernod his bowl in the kitchen. Then serve Chatblis in the living room. Close the door between the two of them, because once Pernod has finished half of his bowl he rudely tries to keep Chatblis away from hers, so he can get two portions.
Some real Messi like dribbling skills accompany this manoeuvre. Thus Pernod is forced to clean out his own bowl. Then the glutton makes his way to the closed door and starts moaning again. Chatblis isn’t bothered and continues emptying her bowl. This can take a while since she always has to clean her whiskers a few times mid meal. Meanwhile Pernod tries digging a tunnel under the door.
Only when Chatblis also starts complaining, my next task is up: reunite the duo. Pernod then quickly washes out Chatblis’ bowl. Then both of them walk back to their food bowls for the next part of their breakfast.
My coffee? As soon as the cats are finished.