The cat was almost as good as an alarm clock. Every morning she stood on me and glared until I woke up to a pair of eyes glowing in the morning light. Once she’d got me awake and alert, she then found her usual spot and curled up to sleep. It was an odd system, but it seemed to work for her, and being the cat, that was all that really mattered.
That was how she dealt with anything she found out of place. Stare at it until it figures out that it has annoyed the cat, and moves.
The odd thing is that worked on inanimate objects too.
If you watched her, you’d never see her action. But glance away for a minute, and you would find that the pillow was now right side up and perfectly placed where the sunbeam would find it for the next hour.
I tried ignoring the stare once.
I’ve never done that again. She stares at me, I wake up and deal with whatever it is that she needs me to do. It is a simple arrangement, but it works for her.
When the stare alone doesn’t work, she escalates.
She stares more. Silently. Reproachfully. Waiting for the object to realize its mistake and make way for her desires. She’s the cat, and it works for her.
At the end of the day, though, I’m her human. And that works for me.