Ever experience the mind-bending licks of a cats tongue on your eyelids? Ever wonder why people have cats? Well, no matter your answers, this will tell you about both.
I normally wake up in the morning like most Americans with the sun drenching the room with its light and warmth. Most mornings I find my coffee already brewed (thank God for technology and pre-set coffee pots) and my lovable little baby boys, Myelo and Leo, sleeping on the bed with me curled up in two little balls of fur. However, this morning was most atypical. I had been relishing a deep, deep sleep which in itself is an abnormality when I began to feel someone rubbing sandpaper across my eyelids. Well, like most people, I incorporated this very real experience into my little dream world. I was in a medieval torture chamber and I had some sweaty barbarian standing over me rubbing sandpaper on my eyelids and ordering me to declare loyalty to the king. As the torture continued and increased in its severity, I began to gain some form of consciousness. The dream faded and I noticed I had what seemed to be a tank sitting on my chest. This “tank” turned out to be the source of my torture. No, it was not the medieval torture guru, nor was it actually a Sherman tank. It was, however, my twenty-six pound cat. His name is Myelo and is a very loving little guy. I slowly opened my now raw eyes and looked straight into the eyes of the perpetrator. Now, you have to know Myelo. When he decides it is time to be petted then he usually forces the issue. I am sure many cat lovers can sympathize with me on this point. Myelo had obviously decided it was time to be petted. Either that or he had decided that I needed a bath and wanted to contribute to the effort. Either way, it was effective in waking me. We lay there, I on my back and he on my chest, and stared at one another for a couple of minutes while I decided whether or not to give sleeping another try. I opted toe sleep and Myelo opted otherwise.
I began to see that any effort at sleep was going to be futile and decided that I had better play with the not-so-little guy. Myelo is almost five years old and very set in his ways. He understands the rules and while he is in my presence he follows them. Outside of my presence I ask no questions as long as nothing is destroyed. Leo, however, is a different story. I once looked up the word spastic in the dictionary and it had a picture of an adorable orange tabby cat. Many cats suddenly get the desire to be in another room immediately. However, Leo is not quite so planning. Yes, he too is spontaneous, which the girls like, but he is also a bit forgetful. Leo is very much still the kitten at heart. He is just over one and a half years old and still thinks he has the body of a two month old.
I have drifted away from my morning a bit. As I was saying, I decided that Myelo had won the battle and I opened my eyes and began to pet him. The second I touched him it set off his engine key and the Harley V-twin he uses as a purr-box began to rumble. Leo was alerted at the first sound of a purr session and stretched out in order to get those little muscles going. Leo slowly made his way up to the head of the bed and began rubbing his face on mine. Of course, Myelo left as he is a very jealous individual. The absence did not effect Leo in any way. He went right ahead and rubbed away. I just lay there thinking of the sleep that I was being deprived of and smiling at the love that my little boys show me so unconditionally.
Myelo, now in the living room, let out a short sweet meow and that ignited something in the currently docile Leo. He used my face as a booster and went leaping through the air and into the other room. I heard a thump as he ran into something and then the sound of elephants running through the apartment. Leo ran back into the bedroom, back to the living room, back to the bedroom, back to the...well, I think you get the idea. The miniature derby ended when Leo could no longer run because Myelo had ambushed and tackled him in the hallway. At this point, I was too awake to go back to sleep, besides my coffee was brewed and my boys wanted to play. I guess things could be worse. I could have had a two hundred pound St. Bernard sitting on my chest and licking my face. Thank God for cats!!