There is an unexplainable urge I get when the sun goes down. I WANNA ROCK! (ROCK!)
I wish I could quantify this feeling with scientific evidence, as I historically have done, but I'm just going to have to win this argument with my emotion and passion.
During the day and into the evening, I consistently nap. When my mother leaves for wherever it is she goes each day, I get up, stretch and get my treats. But, before her car even pulls out of the driveway, I hit the blankets on my journey to blissful dreamland. At some point during the day, I may drag my tail out of bed to get some food and drain the main vein, but then it's back to bed for me. Okay, maybe when my mother gets home again, I'll eat some more treats. But only when she insists.
In the evening I move from the spare bedroom to the back of the couch. This affords me the luxury of sleeping, while still being an active part of the evening social scene. I have had some really bizarre dreams when I've listened to the TV while I sleep. I mean, how many cats dream they are on the Amazing Race? That's just insane!
Ah, but here's the rub: At night, as soon as the lights are turned off and my mother is tucked into bed, all hell breaks loose, baby! I howl. I run from one end of the house to the next. I whip toys onto the lady's bed and beg to play fetch. I even pretend to want ear and neck scritches--just to keep her awake.
"Brach Lee..." she'll moan. It's time for bed.
"Lady," I'll respond, "Bite me!"
Night is the best. Paws down! For as long as I live, I'm committed to rockin', rollin' and what-not during the wee hours of the morning! I'm a nocturnal party animal!
NO, PARTY EVERY DAY!
You're an idiot, Brach. Complete buffoon.
During the day is when shit goes down! Squirrels are on the prowl. Chipmunks and birds are at the slider. For crying out loud...All My Children is on!
When night falls, I, like other normal beings, want to sleep. My agent will turn out the lights in the living room and gently coo, "It's bedtime, babies!" Before the entire sentence escapes her mouth, I'm already trotting into the bedroom to plant myself in the center of the bed. Everyone knows the rule: It's first come, first served--no matter how much bigger you are than the itty bitty cat and no matter who paid for the bed with her hard-earned money. Just try to move me!
Anyway, once the lights have been turned out, I'm zonked. I'm ready to snuggle against the small of her back and dream sweet dreams of my Tomcat Stable.
Then you start. Howling. Running. Playing. Jumping. I usually try to ignore it for about 20 seconds, then I bitterly leap down from the bed and go to kick your ass.
"Brach Lee..." she'll moan.
SLAP! SLAP! I swat you with my paw. "Shut the hell up, you evil little boy! It's time to hit the hay!"
Listen. Seriously, knock off the night-time hijinks. By evening, after a long day of lying in the sun and
Partying Every Day is the new Rock and Roll All Night. Look into it.