7. Cleocatra
7
Cleocatra
I wake up with a stretch, paws knocking into my human’s head again. She insists on sharing this pillow even though it’s mine.
Rude.
I stand and arch my back before stretching each paw out in front of me. Post nap stretches are better than my feather toy and secretly scratching the corner of the couch— Shh . Don’t tell.
My human still doesn’t move.
Sauntering closer, I peer down.
Are you dead ?
She was upset last night, lots of crying, which I shouldn’t complain about since she fed me twice on accident and was horizontal all evening. But I still don’t like it.
The loud beeping noise goes off, starting my morning off with a heaping dose of anxiety, and I need to run away now . But this is how she wakes up every day, as do I.
My human reaches to turn it off.
Still alive, I see.
That’s good. I don’t know how to open cans.
I would have had to eat her.