How I Woke Up This Morning

First of all I need to start with a brief history. Marty came to our family the summer of '94. Having been harassed by a crow, we found Marty in a tree. He hissed at us when we grabbed him, but soon found our front porch equipped with a milk crate for a home. He was just a kitten, and a cute, incredibly soft one at that. He had meandered his way from the farm, and despite my dad telling us not to feed it, we did. He also told us not to bring the little guy in the house, but we did; and, after giving fleas to our dogs, it was decided that he needed to become an official part of the family to prevent another outbreak. Next, he was stretching and scratching upon the couch, so he got declawed; then, finding him in a compromising position, he got neutered. The cat acts like a prince, even more so since the princess has left. He makes my dad look like he isn't spoiled.

My mom and Marty have a good relationship. He knows to leave her alone. If he comes up by her head while she is sleeping, she throws him to the bottom of the bed; if he is sleeping by her feet, she kicks him. My dad and Marty have become incredibly tight, especially after the other hairy beast left for Portland. Marty will sit all night in my dad's lap, and he often lays on my dad's chest while in bed. Likewise, the two begin the morning together in the bathroom getting ready for the day and then have breakfast together. My dad is like clockwork, and Marty truly appreciates his consistency.

My parents are gone for the week, so I am taking care of the hairy guy. Since Marty is used to having a lot of attention, I now have to provide it. One problem, however, is the fact that I am mildly allergic to the little terror, which I think makes him love me more. The last time I spent the night at my parents, he slept with me, on the small of my back! On Sunday, he spent the whole afternoon and night laying in my lap or on my chest (I was in my dad's chair) and pawing/petting my face to show his love. Last night, he wasn't nearly as affectionate, so I figured I had given him sufficient love or given him enough attitude that he knew I shouldn't be messed with - I get crabby when my allergies act up. So, we went to bed, like the night and morning before, I could always feel him hovering around me, but he thankfully nestled in and we went to sleep.

Marty obviously thought that he had given me a significant amount of time to realize that in addition to giving him food, water, pepperoni, and my complete attention, I needed to provide those on his time frame. When my dad is home, he gets up at 6 and begins his morning immediately by giving Marty a ton of affection. Marty, I think, thought he was being benevolent when he waited till 6:10 to start pawing/poking my face. Who needs an alarm clock when you have a cat from hell? I uncovered my head and told him no. I went back to sleep, but every time my snooze went off or I woke to check the time, that little bastard was just staring at me. He is cute, but I don't want to wake up to that face staring a hole into my head as he glares at me, telling me I need to get up, feed him, and love him.