Sound the Alarm?!

Mummy has this thing, this contraption, that was given to her when she was 12 (she is 42 now, if that says anything), and it simply won’t die! Dad must like it, too, ‘cause every night he reaches over and taps it with his fingers (possibly some crude form of affection; personally, I prefer having my head scratched to being tapped) but the worst of it is, the blighted thing thinks it is a rooster! Every morning VERY EARLY, it starts blasting away as if the house was on fire, making every one of us jump out of our fuzzy pajamas. I can’t see what it has to be so chipper about, and frankly I get tired of having the bajeezies scared out of me at such an unfashionable hour! Well, yesterday morning I decided I would solve that little problem. You know how you have this sort of sense of impending doom, that restless awareness that something should be happening very soon? I got that around 4:30, while it was still very quiet in the house. I got up - yes, me – and stole silently across the lumpy terrain of cats and parents, trying not to disturb anyone. Someone made an “oof” sound, might have been Dad as I stepped on his stomach - so I stopped until I was sure everyone had settled back down; then I proceeded on my way to the little table by the bed. “Oof!” What is that noise? Possibly Dad as I stepped off his stomach? Oh, well. Up on the table, I stepped in circles round the little thing, its many red eyes staring boldly into the dark – this thing is unexpectedly creepy-looking! I positioned myself to one side (out of its line of vision), and with one fell swoop of my great paw, sent it flying across the…table. It flew off the edge then hovered for a second before falling straight down on the floor beside the bed. Whoa! This thing is on a leash – just like the monster in the closet! And I think I killed it!! Now I am really creeped out, Mummy and Dad are both yelling at me, and I am running as fast as my chubby legs will carry me, anywhere but there. This is way too much to think about. The worst of it? When I jumped on the bed for my afternoon nap, there it was, back in its usual spot, staring straight ahead – and I am certain it winked at me! Bedtime approaches; Dad reaches over and taps the mini-monster. 5:00 a.m. this morning: “AGNN!, AGNN!, AGNN!, AGNN!, AGNN!...”

When will it end, I ask myself?? I haven't answered yet...