…then just sit on the alarm clock. That’s what my cat Sylvester decided to do this morning, after walking across me several times didn’t prompt me to leap obediently out of bed and immediately feed him like a good, well-trained human.
When the painful screech of the alarm clock woke me up rather rudely today, I reached over to the nightstand to find the godforsaken thing and got a handful of fur instead. I felt around some more in the dark. No alarm clock. Just cat. Because his big, fat, fuzzball body was parked right on top of the clock, and he wasn’t moving just because his new perch was making progressively louder, shrill noises.
I can’t vouch for the comfort of sitting on the alarm clock. However, it was successful in Sylvester’s quest for attention this morning, so hey, it might be worth trying out.
A second trick of his, while I’m sharing, is walking on the keyboard. It may not garner the kind of attention you are seeking, but it usually draws an irritated swat on his furry butt for Sylvester.
*Photo courtesy of the ever-humorous I Can Has Cheezburger*