What it's like

On mornings when I have a hard time getting up with the alarm clock (which is almost every morning), one or all of the cats shifts into Moxie wakeup mode. They are a tag team, a little cat pack, and when they get fixated on a goal, be it catching a fly or waking us up, they do not stop until the goal is reached. If I hit snooze twice, Griffin suddenly appears on the bed, her nose in my ear and her soft little body perched on my chest. She purrs so hard that she sounds like an outboard motor. Then she nudges me with her face and meows her scratchy little meow, telling me to get up NOW, mom, NOW. Some days, though, she’s just as lazy as I am and she climbs up my arm only to worm her way under the covers and flop on my feet, her warm, slight weight vibrating with contentment. Those are the days when it’s Cringer or Scully’s turn to get things started. Scully sits just out of arm’s reach and squawks until I move a body part and then she runs for either the food bowl or the back door. Cringer jumps up onto the bed and then back down to the floor, the thuds getting progressively louder the more determined she gets. She is Rubenesque and she knows how to throw her weight around. I am incapable of resisting their cuteness.