It was almost ten o'clock tonight, just about an hour ago. The Cupster and I were sitting downstairs in the living room watching Words Into Music, a documentary about the recent inductees into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame. We were watching the segment about Leonard Cohen, which k.d. lang would finish with her rather sensational rendition of Cohen's Hallelujah.
It was then that one green eye peeked around the stairs, and it was then that the cat meowed at us.
This was neither a general nor indiscriminate meow, doncha know? No, it was the cat's call to bed. As I have previously mentioned, we generally all go to bed together, and he is beginning to let us know in no uncertain terms if he is ready for bed but we appear not to be. That's right, Mr Cat has taken to meowing to us that it is time to trundle off to bed. Just the other night, he sat at the bottom of the stairs, plaintively looking upwards, and insistently beckoning us with his meows.
Tonight, when he repeated the behaviour, from part-way up the stairs this time, we knew that it had been no fluke. After about five minutes, he tired of waiting and headed the rest of the way without us. Sure enough, we found him hunkered down at the foot of the bed when we ascended the stairs and poked our noses in the bedroom doorway a few minutes later.
I suppose that his calls were rewarded because a tired Cupster soon joined him. Normally, I go to bed with Cupster and read to her for a while. But we just finished a book and don't have another at hand. Any suggestions?
(There are two more cat photos that you might have missed on The Cupster's blog.)