Meet My Alarm Clock

Benjamin Franklin once said, “Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” I have the early rising part down, not just because I am a morning person, but also because I have a very persistent alarm clock --- my cat.

I love my cat. His name is Fermata and he is actually the first feline I ever purchased from a pet store. My previous cats were strays that appeared on my doorstep, but this guy was just too cute to pass up. He was about three months old when he joined our family and was soon trained in the fine art of waking “the food lady” by the senior cat at that time, Theodore.

Theodore passed on several years ago and one of his greatest legacies is the expert education he gave this underling. How he accomplished such a feat is beyond me. Theodore was a gorgeous white and tabby-colored cat with a sweet personality, but without the cunning shrewdness possessed by most felines. His most sophisticated rising ritual consisted of sitting at my bedroom door meowing incessantly until I got up and served him breakfast. Occasionally, he would come to my bedside and touch my cheek with his paw. A noisy, albeit gentle, waking procedure. Simple, yet highly effective. Theodore never starved. In fact, at one time, he weighed almost 20 pounds!

Fermata, on the other hand, enjoys a much more “in your face” approach. It usually begins around 5:00 AM with a head-butting routine, the kitty equivalent of a poke in the ribs. My shoulder is the standard target for these affectionate bumps, although the side of my head or my back will suffice when necessary. Bothersome, much like a gnat in your face at a summer picnic, but definitely ignorable.

If this insistent nudging fails to produce the desired result (aka food), Fermata advances to the kitty equivalent of throwing back the covers --- “love bites.” He usually starts with my feet, nipping at my toes when he can get to them. If that falls short of getting my attention, he hunts down my elbows for some intermittent gnawing. Finally, he goes for my hands, fingers first and then, as a last resort, the soft fleshy part between my thumb and forefinger. Now that gets my attention! At which point, breakfast is served and the day begins in earnest.

I suppose it would be less annoying and less painful to purchase one of those alarm clocks that would wake me gradually with gently brightening light and the sounds of birds chirping in the distance, even though my kitty clock never draws blood or even makes a mark on my skin. Yet, what would such a replacement do to the relationship I have with my feline timepiece? Fermata warms my feet in the winter, greets me at the door whenever I return home, and keeps watch over me when I’m ill. An ordinary clock would never express such personal devotion. And as soothing as a gradual awakening would be, I would miss opening my eyes each morning to see that fuzzy face with the penetrating green eyes. As for the sounds of chirping birds, I find the soothing purr of a cat to be much more endearing, and much less shrill (remind me to write about my cockatiel sometime). Replace my kitty alarm clock? No, I think not. Fermata is definitely a keeper.