I know before even opening my eyes that it is 6:30 a.m. The morning assault has begun. I hear the gurgling purr so much a part of Charlie first. He has decided that laying between my feet is a preferable spot for his orangeness. He also knows by now that Sinclair and Indiana (now almost 2.5 months old) attack my toes in the early morning hours. Socks offer little protection against their advances. My ankles and toes bear the reminders of these toe assassins. Kitty scratches don’t heal as quickly these days as they used to.

Everest is next. He jumps on top of my micro-bead pillow and my head squishes down until I am looking into his exquisite green eyes. I feel droplets of drool on my forehead. Since he arrived here at 2 weeks old (He is now almost three years old) He has drooled continuosly. Multiple vets tell me there is no problem, no gingivitis or stomitis (rare in young kittens anyway.) He drools because he is happy to see to me, happy to be alive. Happy to have been rescued. It is a morning shower with meaning.

Trump has been irritable lately and who can blame him. The last to arrive he takes these newest kittens with scorn. How dare they come here and claim our attention that was once his. In the mornings he battles with his brothers and sisters. They choose our bed as their launching pad and the kitty acrobatics gain a ten from the drowsy judges.

Jacks climbs on my chest and purrs in my face. He is such a sweet, golden baby. His eyes are ringed in white and there is an innocence in his look even when he is getting into mischief. Did he knock the perfume off the dresser? Did he leave the ping pong ball in my tennis shoe? Did he drop Charlie’s favorite toy in the litter pan? Nah- not our Jacks- his golden eyes deny any knowledge of any wrong-doing. He makes biscuits on my chest and closes his eyes….oh..if only I could join him.

I hear the dogs restless in their crates. The horses are banging on the gate, they too know that I am awake, somehow sensing in the animal universe that these alarm clocks with feet have once again done their job. Despite the fact that I will work at the shop late tonight and would benefit from any additional sleep- I cave to the desires of the crew and get up. Time to get the coffee going and the gang fed. Time to see what this new day will bring. Hubby has rolled over and started snoring- I guess if he could sleep through the earthquake of 1963, he can sleep through the actions of the kitty assault team- as for me, I am not so lucky!