Cats can be, and are, just as ornery children.  We have two.  They’re both short-haired, domesticated, strictly indoor felines, with personalities all their own.

We consider Merlyn, named after the wizard, my hubby’s familiar.  When we got her, she was a tiny thing, but she had eyes like sapphires.  Dark sapphire with a tinge of green.  She took to him, mainly because I was always at work.  She’s five, going on six years old in human years, and the older she gets, I swear, the ornerier she’s becoming.

One morning, very early, I was awakened by something pouncing on my face.  It was around 3am, the sun had yet to begin to rise, and the house was dark and soundless.  I was in a dead sleep.  My hubby next to me, also sleeping.

At the time, hubby and I were sharing a full-sized loft bed, with a built-in desk underneath, so imagine being rudely awakened by a cat pouncing on you in the middle of the night because that’s exactly what happened.  She’d taken the liberty of using our dresser as a ‘step’ up to get on the bed.  Problem is, she jumped from the dresser to our bed, and landed on my face!  What she did after, the look she gave me just before she jumped back down, that was her personality all the way.  She looked at me like I wasn’t supposed to be sleeping there, in her spot, on my pillow.

After being woke up by Merlyn jumping on me, I obviously wasn’t impressed.  My hubby thought it was funny until he realized exactly what happened.  The look she gave me was priceless though, like “What are you doing there?”  I guess she wasn’t expecting her landing pad to react.

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