Twenty!

19 May

Today is Cleio's twentieth birthday. As is her right, she slept through most of it.

Here's the Old Girl in her favorite daytime sleeping spot: the few inches of free surface not covered by Jack's paper avalanche on the sofa in the computer room.



Cleio's day goes something like this:

5:30 a.m.: Meow-gurgle in my face in order to ensure that I don't get a full night's sleep uninterrupted. Should this not elicit a response, a gentle claw in my arm is warranted.

6:10 a.m.: Greet me with another "Nurrr!" as I turn off the alarm. Gurgle all the way to the bathroom and dutifully wait for the glucosamine-infused dollop of Fancy Feast and the foul blood pressure pill. "Meeowf!" again for fresh water.




6:30 a.m. to 7:00 p.m.: Alternate between sleeping, yowling for Feline LP (grrrravy!) on the dining room table, peering around cautiously for a marauding Burnaby, and standing just-so on Jack's wrists as he types on his laptop computer.

7:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m.: Relocate to the lower level sofa, alternating between Jack and my lap, depending on which one of us is eating the more complicated food. The goal is to position self between plate and mouth.

10:00 p.m.: Move to whichever room I'm in and nurgle-gurgle for the nighttime smattering of Greenies. Follow me from room to room until said Greenies are dispensed.

11:00 p.m.: Scramble onto the bed. Position is crucial here; I must not be able to turn over without maneuvering around the Birthday Girl.




In order to be fair, here's a picture of Burnaby, hamming it up with some catnip: