When the Cats Wake Up First

Reading Time: 4 minutes

By Michael Avery

I remember the early morning antics of two, 10-week-old kittens like it was yesterday. They woke me up from a sound sleep, but they were so cute that I couldn’t stay mad at them for long. 

Looking back at the memory, it is apparent that the experience was a “Waking Dream in Retrospect.” In other words, there was a lesson hidden in the chaos that morning, one I was only able to understand in retrospect.

The Backstory

I was staying with a friend who had recently relocated to a small house near the base of Mt. Hood. After a full day of skiing at Mt. Hood Meadows, my friend, his wife, and I talked late into the evening about their plans, dreams, and things new to their lives. 

They proudly told me the story of how they had adopted two fluffy, orange kittens. I glanced over toward the kitchen and saw them sleeping together on a soft cotton towel in a wicker basket. They were angels with fur!

We all turned in for the night around 11:00 p.m. Exhausted, I rolled out my sleeping bag in one corner of their living room where I anticipated a long, much-needed, restful night of sleep. We had nothing planned for the following day, Sunday, and I drifted off with dreams of sleeping in until ten.

What happened at 5:00 a.m. the next morning would have made for a great cartoon. The drama began when I was suddenly awakened by something running across the top of my sleeping bag. I opened one eye and saw two furry “monsters” tearing through the house, knocking over plants, and climbing up the curtains. 

I wrote the following poem/children’s book several months later to memorialize the event. I will share the message in this memory at the very end.

When the Cats Wake Up First

The family sleeps in every Sunday till ten. It’s been a family tradition since no one knows when. But every so often, every once in a while, when the cats come home early from their Saturday prowl, there’s a day that the family would rather forget, but no one has ever forgotten one yet. It’s a horrible day, every third or fourth Sunday. When the cats wake up first things can really get ugly.

Now, some cats love cooking and keeping with fashion, but science is Buttercup’s first and last passion. She’s come up with a treat called a “nuclear blunder.” Mom thinks it’s a tonic. Dad says she looks younger.

Then, some cats are groomers, and some cats are scratchers. Cats without fleas tend to make the best actors. Rosebud, for instance, is handsome and dashing. He likes to look good when he’s ripping and slashing. (furniture)

Cats need a hobby to fill up their time. Some are demanding, others help them unwind. It’s a sight to see cats in Hawaiian pajamas, but when cats steal the car it can drive you bananas.

Oh, they’re dad’s little angels when the clock says it’s ten, but they’ve planted the Porsche in the fish pond by then. The neighborhood used to be such a safe place. Now, most of the neighbors are moving away. But they really don’t have any reason to worry except on the mornings the cats wake up early.

It’s a race for the phone. Can you guess who they’ll call? Their friends from Down Under, the wildest of all. When it’s winter Down Under, it’s summer up here. You can bet if it’s done, it’s done backwards down there.

Whaaat! Pie before breakfast? It’s perfectly fine. But everyone runs when it’s archery time.

Some new friends arrive from the farm and the zoo, but a party’s no party without plenty to do. So Rosebud cuts loose with some alley cat humor. (head in the wall like a trophy) Buttercups treats bring out looks of approval.

Then it’s hot dogs to sizzle and baseball till ten. No one keeps score because nobody can.

If dad every caught them he’d skin them alive. He’d ship them to China. He’d tan their behinds. He’d lock those cats up for as long as they lived. He’d show them no mercy…if he caught them that is.

But dad never can. They’re too smart for old dad. By the time he finds out no one’s ever around. Or they might fall asleep with an innocent grin. It’s not easy destroying a house before ten.

But dad soon forgives them. He knows he can’t win. He tries to stay mad, but he always gives in. And besides, they’re his angels, so cuddly and cute, and soon they’ve been good for a Sunday or two.

Then a Saturday comes when there’s nothing much doing. The cats pace the floor, then they settle for snoozing. The family turns in, all but day, he’s up late. It seems dad is a little uneasy these days.

Yes, it’s been much too quiet, too quiet for dad. It’s been much too long since things got out of hand. And it’s been a long time since the cats came home early. I guess there’s good reason for dad to be worried.

____________________

My friends’ two cats, that I later called Rosebud and Buttercup, taught me a valuable lesson. I didn’t catch it back then, but their memory returns on occasion to remind me to enjoy life—to take time to play. It’s okay to run through the house like a wildcat now and then and even climb the curtains when nobody’s looking!