The thing is, I wasn't even running late. I'm used to hearing turkeys talk as they stroll about the yards or congregate under the oaks, but yesterday morning one turkey sounded particularly close. Yup, there was a hen standing on the deck rail, looking in the living room window and yelling repeatedly, "We want breakfast! We want breakfast!" Gee willikers, now the turkeys are getting bossy.
Three-thirty a.m. Long, skinny cat arms slide under my face on the pillow. Cat paws knead the blanket over my chest. Cat body plops down heavily on my legs. Ralph is up early. Once he's sure I'm awake, he leaves the bed to jump up on the desk and start knocking pencils to the floor and move other objects around. Waiting until I doze off again, he comes to the window sill over my head and rattles the cords to the blinds. I turn over and try to get back to sleep. "We'll be having none of that, m'lady!" Ralph jumps down on the pillow and launches himself to the floor, landing like a ton of bricks with a loud thump. He enlists Celeste's help and the two of them race across the bed. Four-thirty a.m. I give up and get up. It's going to be a long day.