Pet Peeve

There's a reason annoying peeves are called PET peeves. My dear, sweet, soft, seventeen-year-old back kitty, called August, has the habit of crying like a baby beside my bed at about six every morning. Now this works as a great alarm clock on working days, but I like to sleep until maybe eight on the weekends. Dear kitty has no concept of weekends and she doesn't let up her irritating cry. I have gotten better at ignoring her - but only to a certain point. It's not like the poor thing is starving. She has access to her dry food anytime.

Recently, I came up from the basement to find her meowing at my bed when I wasn't even in it. So I'm thinking she just meows at my bed whenever life gets to her. I've never been the parent to such an old cat. When I was a child, my pet cats had short lives. They roamed the neighbourhood at night and inevitably got lost, beat up in cat fights, or run-over.

Getting up early on weekends isn't so bad, though. It gives me more time. Who doesn't appreciate a long weekend?

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