According to the US Navy, tomorrow, March 17 is the real spring equinox this year. Daylight and night will be in near-perfect balance for our St. Patrick’s Day delights. This is not just a fun fact; it’s vital information, because it tells us when to expect the false dawn, that brightening of the sky that wakes creatures that don’t sleep in pitch black curtained bedrooms. This week, astronomical twilight happens around 5:20 am, and it gets earlier and earlier until midsummer’s eve. Why pay attention to such a thing? Because in our house it’s become known as the caterwauling hour.
This morning it started quietly enough. There was a tentative “Meow” from outside the bedroom door shortly after 5 am. The hour seemed more like night than day. And the first noises echoed in my dreams, gently rousing me from sleep.
And then it got louder.
Cat [in an itty bitty kitty voice]: Hello? Hello?
[pause long enough for humans to fall back to sleep]
Cat: Hello? Are you there? I’m out here.
[pause long enough for humans to fall back to sleep]
Cat [louder, and more insistent]: Helloooo? I’m still out here. It’s lonely out here.
[pause]
Cat: Helloooo? I’m still out here. I know you’re in there. I’m really lonely. And I’m hungry.
Cat: Helloooo? Still here. And you’re still in there. I’m lonely. And hungry. This isn’t fair!
[pause while humans pretend to sleep, thinking, If we don’t move, she’ll give up and go away.]
Cat: Really! I want to be in there. And I’m going to stay out here until you let me in there. It’s not fair! She’s in there. Why can’t I be in there?
Sound of scraping noises as cat claws at the gap between door and floor.
[pause]
Cat: Helloooo? I know you can hear me! This is really unfair! Really, really unfair!
[pause long enough for humans to drift off again, thinking they’ve won]
Cat [aside in a silent kitty soliloquy]: What has the giant cat got that I don’t have? Okay, she’s a goliath, but she’s not nearly as cute. Sure, she’s black and hairy and wags her tail like me. But when was the last time she brought the Food Lady a bird or a mouse or three birds and a mouse in the same week? Is she even a real cat? She’s like a mutant panther or something. Why does she get to sleep in there? And why does she get that awesome bed? It’s soft and warm and big enough for me too. But does she share? And why does she get fed before me? The Food Lady cuddles her. And escorts her on outings twice a day. They take her away for days and day. And leave me here. All alone. For what seems like forever. Maybe it’s the Food Lady’s fault. This never happened before the Food Lady and the giant hairy one moved in. And she wonders why I roll around in her laundry? Hah! It’s funny when the Food Lady sneezes. Maybe if I get myself worked up enough, I can throw up a hair ball in her shoes. Let’s see…
Cat [caterwauling]: Helloooo! Helloooo! Helloooo! I know you can hear me! I’m still out here! This is really unfair! Really, really unfair! I’m not going away! I know you can hear me there! They can hear me next door!
Female human [silent aside while burrowing deeper under the duvet]: Not my cat. Not moving. Don’t care how much noise she makes. If he makes me go out there, I may have to choke her.
Cat [caterwauling]: Helloooo! Helloooo! Helloooo! Still here!
Male human [rolling out of bed and groaning in defeat]: I’m going to choke her now.
Dog yawns and falls back to sleep.
The End.
Notice to readers
No cats, dogs, humans, or panthers were harmed during the writing of this blog post.
Visualizing Shakespeare 