FIRED UP FOR BREAKFAST

The infamous cat wakeup, Grinsane style.

Think of the humiliation our poor cats must feel, day-after-day, begging for breakfast and pawing the pillows. Herding us humans bleary eyed into the kitchen to prepare their royal feast of chicken byproducts and other disgustables, a dubious reward at best. What happens when they finally crack? When our belligerent kitties say to hell with the food, we are ending this tyranny once and for all?

This is how I imagine it playing out… with rope, matches, and gasoline.

It’s a dark vision, to be sure, but don’t be fooled into thinking our feline companions are nothing but innocent balls of fur and purr. If we were small enough, they would certainly eat us — after batting us around the floor for an hour or two first.

Thankfully, around here I can occasionally sleep in until eight before the villains spring into action. I suppose it makes me more productive on the weekends. Schedule is important, and cats are the ultimate alarm clock. That’s what I tell myself at least.

Thanks for reading!