Who Needs an Alarm Clock When You've Got Cats?

I was jolted out of a weird dream this morning (sunbathing in my underpants in the backyard--like I said, weird) by Sam chasing Turtle up onto the bed. Turtle heads for the pillow and the top of my head in order to get away from him. I manage to mutter "stop it, Sam" and burrowed back under the blankets. Sam left, but Turtle decided to stay put.

And you know, it's really hard to sleep when there's a cat taking a bath on top of your head. It wasn't a quick little freshen up, it was a "Gawd, I'm filthy!" all over cleanup. I opened my eyes at one point to find a hind leg stretched across my face. At another point he decided I needed grooming as well and started licking my hair. Let me tell you, cat spit does not make a good hair gel. Nor do cat tongues gently exfoliate your forehead. After he ripped a strip of flesh off my face for the second time, I decided I might as well get out of bed, so I left Turtle to rule the bed pillow. It must have been boring without me there to bother, because he settled down and went right to sleep.

Sam spent the morning running around acting crazy (what's new) and trying to trip me whenever I walked through a room. I found him attacking the rug in the bedroom floor like it was some predator he needed to annihilate. I actually wish I'd had the camera to capture that one because he had his teeth dug in and was using his hind legs to claw at it. Thankfully the rug came out of the attack unscathed. Ikea evidently makes cat-proof textiles!

He finally got Tommy to play chase with him, so I was able to make it out the front door unnoticed as they were busy racing each other in and out of the cat door and through the backyard. (Why do I have a feeling they immediately decided to take naps as soon as I left?)