"I hope she isn't going to go from NaNoWriMo to the Cat Lady"

Little Augustine has developed a questionable trade.

At night, she will quietly have the run of our home. Yes, this little creature will leave us alone all night long, perhaps batting around her toys or trying to scale our Christmas tree--I can't speak definitively about her actions, as I'm sleeping. But these tendencies have been duly noted in daytime hours, so there is credibility.

This innocent little feline will make nary a move to disturb her owners while the moon reigns. At most, she will cuddle near our feet, luxuriating in the feel of our down alternative comforter. And who could blame her, as she especially appreciates it's hypoallergenic qualities.

But then her diurnal clock wakes her sometime around 5:30 to 6:30 AM, and she thinks we need to wake up. I'm sorry; not we, just me. At this unfortunate time, she will approach my side of the bed, crouch under my bedside table, and begin scratching at the fitted sheet. Not something I can ignore.

So what is my reaction? Do I appreciate this furry alarm clock, shut off my more abrasive back-up and jump out of bed refreshed, glad to have the leisure to enjoy coffee before work? No. I drag myself out of bed after having muttered her name disgustedly, somehow dig up that scoundrel (who by now has sensed my irritation and snuck under my bed), carry her to the doorway, and let her relocate to the hallway while I shut off access to our bedroom. And now that I have moved around the room, even fished under my bed in the dark, do I stay up? No. I crawl back under warm, downy goodness. All for five minutes of peace (five minutes that I can't actually sleep because of all that blood-moving activity). You'd think I wouldn't mind staying up. So what if I got up at 6:30? After all, while teaching in Minnesota, I had to be on the road by 6:30 AM to commute to my district. Those of you thinking I'm foolish for crawling back into bed, that I should just appreciate the quiet solitude of my house in the morning, are probably right. But you have no idea how hard it is to resist the call of wanna-be down.

So in the altered words of her namesake, "Lord, give my owners the ability to wake peacefully, but not yet."