I am woken up by a noise outside. My ears are sensitive and I need them like that to keep myself safe, but it has broken many a slumber. I decide that the sound came from outdoors, a bird maybe. I’m comfortable where I am, curled on the soft sofa, so I choose to ignore the chirp and drift back into sleep.
A little later, I wake naturally as the room brightens. I can tell even with my eyes closed that the day is here. I take one last breath before I blink my eyes open. I stand up and stretch the sleep from my body, pushing my front feet down to elongate my legs and curve my spine. I walk around on the spot just to loosen my joints, then stand still to take stock.
I can tell that the house is still at rest. No feet patter across floors and I can hear snores from the other room on this floor. Why aren’t they here to give me attention? The day is here, folks! I want them to come and pet my back and fill my bowl. Ooh! Speaking of that, I’m hungry. So I hop down off the sofa and make my way down the stairs. I stop to peer out of the cat flap. It is light outside, but I can feel the cold air that drifts in around the door and I decide not to go out yet. It’s warm in here. I vaguely remember hearing the click and whirr of the heating coming to life. I pad onwards to the kitchen.
The tiles are cold on my pink toes so I quickly crunch some biscuits until the centre of the bowl has none in it (this means that it is empty). I go and lap up some water and feel small drops still on my chin as I turn around to leave the kitchen. I walk past my bowl and wonder why the people haven’t come to refill it yet. That won’t do!
So I climb the stairs and call out for them, “Me – ow?”
There is no response. Come on, people. Surely someone will pay attention to me? I continue my cry as I walk down the landing to the second set of stairs. I try for the smaller person, who is more likely to respond to me.
“Meee – yow!”
Aha! I hear movement upstairs! Footsteps! A door nudged open!
So I push up the final steps, running to the room now open to me. There is Anna. She looks sleepy, I think.
Hmm… I could go for a sleep too, I reckon.
She has already turned around and climbed back into the bed. So I walk over, push with my back legs until I am up and on the squishiness of her duvet. I walk up to her head. Her eyes are closed. And she isn’t stroking me? This won’t do!
I paw at her face to show her how to do it, in case she’s forgotten. She sticks one warm hand out of the duvet, eyes still shut, and strokes the top of my head.
I start to purr. Oh, this is lovely!
This week we were asked to write from a different perspective. It should be someone that we know well, and we could either write about their day or about ourselves from their point of view. The goal was to look at things from a different point of view to our own. I thought about the person I feel I know best and if I’m honest, the person I spend most time with is my cat. So naturally his little routine of starting the day came to mind for me, and I thought it would be fun to explore it.
I ran out of time a bit during the group and would liked to have taken it further, but I think I managed to close it well with what I had. I haven’t come back to it since to complete it but maybe I will one day. Still, this is what I have for now.
I’m very grateful to my cat for his gentle company and his energy. He has been such a good friend to me the last few years while I have been unwell and at home.
Pictures my own