Playing favorites

We had what you might call a "rough" morning around here. I had terrible nightmares last night (don't read "The Historian" before you go to bed...good book but creepy and intense). The kids were both up early...and both up cranky. IEM declared that he was not going to go to school nor was he going to ever go to his room again, go to timeout, go to the corner nor eat breakfast. His sister refused most breakfast options except for her beloved Pirate's Booty. It was a long time from 6:15 until we left for school at 8:45.

So later in the morning, I was working out at the Y, watching the Regis & Kelly "Relly Awards" without sound and thinking about why, on days like today, Sawyer the cat is my favorite child.

Why? For one, he loves to sleep. He chooses his daily snoozing spot with care and thoughtful analysis. "I think it is going to be sunny with a nice breeze today...perfect for the Big Bed." Or "Hmmmm, sounds like thunder and lightning...better head for the couch in the basement."

For another, I feed him, once per day, the same food he has eaten for the past six years. Does he complain? Only if the bowl is empty.

Also, he isn't a vocal cat; he never talks back. He only meows if he is trying to tell us something, mostly "Get up and get me my chow."

He keeps me on schedule...we call him Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat. You can set your watch by his habits. Each night about 9:30 he comes looking for me, as if to say, "Lady, it will be another early morning with your Creatures. Let us head to bed for more snoozing." He pushes me out the door most mornings. "Lady, get your Creatures out of here so I may begin my day of snoozing."

I never have to take him anywhere, not even walk him. He potty trained himself at six weeks....well, litter-trained himself. He sleeps above my head at night and travels well in the car, sans DVDs to amuse him.

But like most children he is prone to fits and grumps. He goes through spells of waking us during the night because, well, he's a cat and that's what he's supposed to do. He throws up hairballs. He hates any and all vets. He sheds. And I'm technically allergic to him.

So he's not perfect. But he will always be my first baby. And for a few hours this morning, he was my favorite.

Thanks for stopping by.