Thursday, September 28, 2017


I used to not suffer from insomnia. That was hubby-Eric's problem. But now I have it almost every night.

For Inkwell, my insomnia is a huge gift.

Take last night as an example. I went to bed about 10pm, but couldn't sleep and after an hour of tossing and turning I got up and went across the landing to my room to play on my computer. I closed the door most of the way so if hubby-Eric woke the light wouldn't bother him. Naturally, Inkwell came over and opened the door to check on me. Oh well.

After a couple of hours I was feeling tired enough to try to go back to sleep, so I picked up the tiny flashlight/laser pointer from my desk and headed to the bathroom at the top of the landing. After taking care of business, I turned off the light and opened the bathroom door to let my eyes adjust... and spotted a little black shadow right outside the door. I flicked on the flashlight long enough to confirm it was Inkwell the black cat and to see that he had no interest in me at all, but was watching the floor.

He knew I had the laser pointer.

So, being a good cat mommy, at 1am or so I let the laser play all over the landing as Inkwell chased it joyfully. I'm not really sure how long I played with him, but eventually I was too tired to continue and so headed into the bedroom to go back to sleep. I heard one last "mrrrp?" of protest as I hung up my robe and headed for the bed.

While this isn't the exact sequence of events for every night, when I have insomnia there seems to be a better than even chance of me playing lasers with Inky.

Of course, after being up late/early, Inkwell has no problem whatsoever with waking his mommy by tapping her nose in the morning. For some reason, tapping my nose triggers a bladder response in me, and when Inky does it I generally have to get up to use the bathroom. At which point I'm awake and can listen to him explaining in lots of meowing mouth noises why I ought to feed him.

I believe the cat has trained me well.