So looking forward to tomorrow, but..........

Oh I envy you your feline wake up phoenix, I miss my cats so much. I love the deep rumbling throaty purr of a contented cat. I even love the agony of sharp claws piercing your knees, shoulders and back when their kneading you! And the chattering teeth and chirruping noises they make at the birds outside always fascinated me (especially as my old cat wouldn't have had a clue to what to do with any wildlife that fell at his feet). Your wake up call, whilst a little early, sounds bliss to me. Lucky you!

Chewbacca, I'm not knocking the way the cats greet the day, although I must confess opening my eyes to a close up of Oliver Sprouts bottom doesn't make my top ten, his smiley face is much preferred, it's the damned early start of Mr P that does it!

BTW do you agree that some cats do sort of smile? Dear old Digby never mastered it, but OS is a really good smiler as was the late lamented Maurice. Of course it's all done with the eyes.

Phoenix old chum - take thee hither to the spare bedroom and let the rest of the household wake as they will! The feline brigade will value you all the more when normal services resume.

Cats definitely smile phoenix. My cats both hated my ex H and would slink off the chair when he entered the room and move out of his way. they had excellent foresight But when the saw me; they put their tales straight up and sort of "wiggled" it and trotted towards me with a look of pure pleasure on the faces.

As for your DH's banging and crashing about at stupid o'clock - afraid I can't help you there. I dealt with that problem quite severely!

Oh GA I'm sometimes tempted!

Chewbacca it's not just the tail up thing (that can be sending data back to the mother planet!)

Have you tried making eye contact and doing the slow blink? (With cats, obviously, haven't actually noted the results with people!)

Sadly phoenix my feline friends have gone to the big catlitter tray in the sky and so I have none to make eye contact with. I've been reluctant to go out and get another because I've waited for a cat to stroll into my life and decide to make their home with me; as has happened with all my others. But I've been waiting for a year now, so may have to take matters into my own hands!

phoenix I know all about the early morning risings of a DH. Mr hjj gets up at 03:30 on three mornings a week, and 06:30 on the other two. Fortunately he decided that because of the early hour, and the thunderous snoring, he would not disturb me and has been sleeping in our downstairs bedroom for quite some time.
Unfortunately I have no little furry friends now. I miss the little body cuddled up by my feet. Sadly decided not to have anymore pets.

HildajenniJ, when Digby died, Mr P said "no more" as he could stand losing them. However, as poor Oliver Sprout was so morose, we had a look on Cats Protection local sites and hence Minnie! She has definitely cheered OS up no end.

Chewbacca, why not just have a look at the CP sites in your area (there's often more than one) and just see if there is a cat that sort of "speaks" to you from its photo and profile?

That's what happened to us with Digby, Oliver Sprout and now Minnie.

Could NOT stand!

DD has a visiting cat, it actually lives two doors away but deems every open door an invitation to 'bide a wee while'.
It was DD's birthday yesterday and I asked if the cat was there, she told me she was and arrived at the patio door with a frog dangling from her mouth. When DD refused to open the door the cat dropped the frog and gave her a hurt look before turning tail and walking off. She is returning to the UK for a couple of weeks so she will be unfriended when she gets back.

phoenix, I'm so glad you gave Minnie a home with OS. She sounds very sweet. I still miss my long gone cats, but when I moved here I decided against having another since I live on quite a busy road where, I notice, few people have cats. There's a big ginger and white fellow that comes through my garden but we haven't made a connection!

I also miss my beloved cat, who died 18 months ago, very much, and also not sure if I can face going through that agian, like your DH, phoenix; but for 3 weeks over Easter break we are looking after an elderly and poorly cat for a friend who is going away - if I get through that OK, I may get another as I feel guilty and rather selfish knowing how many rescue cats need homes.

phoenix Tara would be in her element with Mr. P up so early and you still lying in bed. She adores having her face and head stroked and she loves rough treatment but on her terms. She cannot understand why I do not get up at that witching hour. I do crawl out of bed after 7am and she is more than happy.

Minnie is the best thing that happened to OS when Digby died- he was missing him a lot even although they were not bosom buddies 24/7.

Tara has never had cat company and I do hope that she never has to go to another family because I can no longer care for her.

The CPL often look for temporary homes for cats and they pay the vet fees etc.

I definitely know all about the early morning shenanigans of the feline variety. 5am my alarm goes off - if I haven't previously been awoken by the furry object on the end of the bed going in her tray she takes the alarm as the sign for rising herself and wanders over my head to the bedhead which she proceeds to lick with vigour. This is her signal that she's hungry - it could also be the side of the bath, the bathroom tiles, a stray carrier bag on the blanket box - she particularly enjoys the pink variety! Once I'm up and have removed all the paraphernalia in front of the door (tray, puppy pad in case she misses it, the hoover which lives behind the door during the day and the pillow carefully placed to stop her scratching the door) and exit the bedroom she rushes out but refuses to come down until she's given the carpet a damned good scrat whether it needs it or not. Down the stairs we go - me complete with recharged phones, iPad, contact lenses and her supper dish.

Open the living room door to have feet attacked by the other (inferior in her opinion) feline of the household who then peers round nervously to make sure she's still behind the door. She's still on the other side of the door listening to make sure he's moved on so she can come in. They hate each other - I'm convinced it's not hate but mutual terror that the other might ambush them when they're not looking.

We proceed to the utility room where they both wait while I put their breakfast out - one padding back and forth to the cat flap looking out to make sure no lions have taken up residence during the night the other taking a crafty swipe at her back end when she's not looking - its the only part of the day when he's brave enough to do this. Breakfast out he proceeds to wolf his down before who knows what in his head is going to steal it off him - she trots off behind me to have hers in the conservatory where she's shut in for 10 minutes so I can put my lenses in before hell breaks loose. There the routine changes on a daily basis depending on a) he goes out b) she comes out and goes upstairs c) he goes upstairs and sits behind the curtains waiting for his dad to come out of the shower or on rare occasions they both stay downstairs in different rooms for an hour or so of peace.

The joys of being ruled by our pets

So lovely to read your responses, our cats are so often a source of pleasure and amusement!

Mr P and I regarded Oliver Sprout as an absolute hooligan and a liability, possibly in comparison to dear Digby,who was of a generally sedate demeanour, but even though Minnie is about a third of the size, of OS, she is much more of a hooligan than he could ever be!

Do you all watch Simon’s Cat videos on youtube?
If not, do it, they are brilliant.My favourite one is the one with a small spider.

I miss having a cat around as well, so make a fuss of DD’s one.?

I so enjoy reading cat lovers tales (tails?) of their moggies. What a lovely thread.

I adore cats. Ours sleeps on our bed at night but comes and goes, out into the garden usually. When she returns she purrs like a road drill because (I presume) she is delighted to find us once again. She wakes us up with her adoration and her padding up and down. Hmmm.

In the morning she has this habit of coming up to my pillow, and squeezing herself onto the two inch strip of bed between me and the bedside table so I can scratch her chin. She plonks herself down, front paws tucked under her (like she's been sitting in a loaf tin) and balances precariously even though she has the whole of our kingsized bed to lie on. She purrs loudly in my ear-hole, big eyes gleaming at me as I try to ignore her, and I know I have been summoned to do the morning cat massage, as she just won't go away. She is as regular as clockwork, no matter how tired I might feel. I have tried sticking my legs and elbows in the two inch space to block her getting up to the pillow but she is never deterred and climbs over me, into the tiniest of spaces.

How do these little creatures make slaves of us? They know they were worshipped in Egypt long ago, don't they?

I transported my three elderly cats halfway across the world when we emigrated. How could I possibly have left them behind; I was there when they were born? They spent their last years having a wonderful time here, but I was determined to be firm that we would have no more pets. That didn't prevent me from feeding a feral cat that we named L-In, short for Little Intruder and then, later, her kittens, whom we named Nelson (after our nearby city), Richmond, where we live and Wakefield (the nearby village where my daughter lives). Then they all got pregnant again and there were heaps more kittens, including a tiny little scrap, no bigger than a hamster, that Wakefield brought to my door. I don't think he was her kitten as hers was clearly older and bigger. Anyway, we took him in and set alarm clocks for three-hourly feeds. We never intended to keep him and were planning to ask the SPCA to re-home him once he was eating solid foods and lapping water. Meanwhile, he was called Squeaker Boots because of his tiny little mew.

Now he is a great big, beautiful, splotchy, furry, fluffy thing who sleeps on my bed, bites my feet in the morning and drapes himself to dangle over my shoulder when I am trying to read. He is clearly here for the duration and a figure in the all the family's life. The grandchildren adore him.

As for the other feral kittens, most were rehomed but one, called by us Little Leopard, is not only still around but finds her way through open windows and spends quite a lot of time dozing on our sofas. Squeaks even gives her priority at his breakfast dish in the morning. All the females have been neutered and the one remaining tom lurks and scurries up for food when the "ladies" have left. HGe is definitely a cowardy custard.

Sounds wonderful, absent

Absent my son and DiL transported their two cats (Trevor Hastings and Wayne Rooney) all the way to NZ 5 years ago. They've moved twice since then and still have a wonderful life living mostly outdoors which they much prefer since the children came along. It actually cost more to take them than it did for their own airfares.

Simon's cat is so funny and true to life - he's obviously studied them in depth for years