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Half past five this morning, yes, morning! Sally called me. Naturally being rather more asleep than awake I figured it was her "I'm home, where are you?" call; so I managed to make some sort of noise, a grumpy croak, to let her know where I was, i.e. in bed, asleep, fully expecting her to rush up the stairs, chattering at me like she does, hop on the bed and, purring all the while, give her coat a once over and settle down for a nice kip.
Wrong!
She yelled again, so I grumped at her a little less croakily - but no cat...
..after three more yells she decided enough was enough, galloped up the stairs, hopped on the bed, yelled at me and went dashing off back down the stairs again.
By this time I was awake enough to realise that this wasn't her "Where are you?" call but her "Come and see what I've brought home!" call and unusually for her she was being very insistent about it. Well I felt sure that it might be interesting, and she might be very pleased with herself, but honestly, I wasn't for one second going to get out of that nice warm bed!
Of course, I couldn't explain that to Sally and she wasn't about to accept anything other than my full attention - up and down the ruddy stairs like a yo-yo with her calls getting markedly more impatient by the minute.
Sheesh!
By this time, bugger it, I was wide awake and feeling that I might as well take advantage of things to take an early bathroom break and yes, inspect Sally's trophy on the way. She dashed down the stairs ahead of me and by the time I arrived in the kitchen she was proudly sitting by her catch, purring fit to bust, in a pose remarkably remeniscent of those photo's of The Great White Hunter with a foot resting on the body of his latest trophy...
..a frog! All this bloody racket for a poxy frog! Admittedly it was a full grown one and therefore more than twice the size of those she's been bringing home over the last week or so, with no such amount of fuss I might add, so yes, I guess it was 'trophy standard' and perhaps worth a remark or two but jeeze!!
Thing is, she was clearly so darned pleased with herself that I didn't have the heart to tell her off.
As for the frog, it was alive and to the naked eye unhurt, but a split second before I could scoop it up to return it to the pond Sally turned herself into a blur, grabbed the frog and belted out through the catflap. Maybe the frog managed to survive the experience. They're very good at playing dead until they get a chance to break for it and I guess it has more chance than it otherwise might because Sally hasn't caught on to the fact that her trophies are edible yet...
So.
She clearly recognises what's a good catch in her own terms, but how do I teach her not to wake me up until she's caught something that I think is good?
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