Sunday Mornings

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Sparky: Mummy…Mummy…MUMMY! Are you awake?”

23 thoughts on “Sunday Mornings”

  1. Leave me alone little Sparky
    I don’t need your furry malarkey
    Breakfast please Sparky I am
    Could you bring me a dish of green eggs an ham?

  2. I am now…..my response to the paw patting my face and the quiet meow from Diavolo usually around 5am because he wants to go out. He has me trained to groggily go to the door, open it enough so he can slide out, close and lock it and go back to bed. He is usually calmly (yes, calmly) waiting on the patio to come in for his breakfast when I really get up a couple of hours later. Of course it’s just dawn here at 5 am so I don’t turn on a light and barely open my eyes.
    In the winter he tends to sleep later….but 5 am here at this time of year is gorgeous…and not 90 degrees!

  3. How can you not hold that little furball up to your face all day long? Reminds me of 1984, the only time we had a cat giving birth to kitten (she came to us on her own, wandering in 4 weeks prior to the birth and visibly no alone). Even my rather pet-uncuddly grandma (she learned to love cats with that mother-cat) could not help taking the cute little fur-bearers up and cuddling them.

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