My cat, the Huntress.

A moment of moggie...

A funny sign is on the box and all I want is to catch bugs. Its still dark and I haven't been outside for hours. I'm a cat, I need to hone my skills, perfect my nunting technique... but my humans won't get up!

I make noise, verbalising my disdain for their laziness. They simply fidget in their warm nest and moan, 'Its too early'. I have no idea what that means but it doesn't sound all that good. They ignore me once again and I get impatient. Every minute they lie there, I miss hundreds of hunting opportunities. What could they be thinking?

A funny looking paw, they call them hands i think, hangs over the nest, flopping loudly to the floor. It is the male. My whiskers twitch as I walk over to it and nudge it lightly with my cold nose. My whiskers tickle the hand and it moves unexpectedly. I jump back, startled, but it doesn't stop me. I want those bugs, I want those flies. I want that odd animal that hops up and down and sueals when I poke it with my claws.

The hand stills and I approach it slowly. I nudge it again but nothing happens. Plan B.

I lift my paw and bat the overhanging article with a hard determined swat. The swipe gets his attention but he still doesn't move. He really needs to move. I let air shoot through my nose in frustration as my mouth moves in irritation. How dare he?

Angry, I swipe him again but this time, I unsheath my claws and dig them into his frail skin. Satisfatcion purrs from me as he sits up nd curses under his breath, definitely awake. I make an impatient meow and he stands up.

'Fine,' he says and covers himself with that temporary fur he is so keen on wearing before trotting down the stairs. I follow gladly, knowing in less than two minutes, I will be in my garden, catching things.