Tuesday, December 18, 2007

The Ritual

Every morning the alarm goes off, and much like a pistol starting a horse race, the ritual has started. Yuko hears the alarm and dashes into our bedroom from whatever she is in the house. Weaving in and out of furniture, skidding into walls when trying to execute a hairpin turn on hardwood. Tongue lolling. And it has begun.

The siren meows, the jumping on the bed only to scamper off if anyone even twitches a toe in the direction of the kitchen. The kneading, right on your bladder, or on the delicate skin of your neck. There can be no doubt, for there is none in her mind - it is Tuna Time.

Never is one so focused as Yuko is when she is sure it is time for Tuna. Should Tonya Harding have had this kind of focus she would surely have broken Nancy Kerrigan's kneecap. Which is exactly what Yuko is hoping to do. She is carefully breaking us down. Training us to jump out of bed and stumble blindly through sleep shut eyes to the kitchen and give her tuna. No stalling, no trying to cuddle her. Just blind obedience. And she will have her way. Tomorrow morning or the next.

1 comment:

Squirrelly Girly said...

Maybe I should borrow her to help me get out of bed in the morning. BTW, thursday night sounds like a fab idea!