Bam! One Book.
Bam! Two Books.
Bam! Three Books.
Mom, don’t make me do it. Don’t make me go for the Big O Book; the Big Oprah coffetable book that you have left on the chair for the past four years….maybe more but I don’t have enough paws to count any higher.
WAKE UP! Oh Great Ghost of the Original Morris, here we go. I’m going to have to do it. I’m going to have to put that Big O book in the floor.
And, BAM! It’s in the floor and I think I’ve finally dislodged that hairball from last week from the effort. Cough, wheeze, cough, sneeze!
By the way, you never dust either. My fur is everywhere and I’m not talking just on my backside and down my gullet.
There we go, there we go….and she’s turned over. No, no…wait, don’t do it. Don’t hit the alarm clock again. Don’t do it. And, there she goes. Hitting the snooze button.
Does she see me over here? Heaving, gasping from the effort of knocking books over, with a stomach that hasn’t had food in hours?
There, that did it. My best, loudest, most raspy, most annoying meow.
She’s up. And staggering to the pantry.
The things I have to put up with around here to get a few nuggets of chow.
Why do you think I’m fat? You’d overeat too from the stress.
Ahh….stress. Mom has a lot of that. She doesn’t seem to know how to turn her mind off. Last night before she finally closed her eyes, she told me she couldn’t stop thinking. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I can’t stop thinking either….about my food.
Around 4 am, I jumped off the bed and took to the couch. I just couldn’t take it anymore; she moved so much that I swear when I woke up I thought The Lion King himself had returned to take me back to the homeland.
Sigh, I wish she’d be still…and stop snoring. Oh, the snoring. Shh…don’t tell anyone but Mom makes the most deafening noise when she finally stops moving.
Well, I don’t know why she worries so much. I try to tell her I’ve got everything I need. Her. Maybe I need to start purring more to really show her?
And, paws on my food bowl….I promise I’ll give it a rest on knocking the Big Oprah book in the floor. Instead, I think I’ll just sit on Mom’s head tomorrow morning.