So I usually take a bath before I go to bed, usually around midnight/12:30.
Gus has decided I need to go to bed earlier, so at 11:00 he jumps in the bathtub and howls—it’s a bathroom, so it ECHOES—until I come up and start running the bath. He will not be removed, tricked, dissuaded, or silenced.
I may have up to 1 (one) hour for my bath.
At midnight, he starts staring at me, and I get about 5 minutes of staring before he goes and sits on my bed and begins howling—normally he has the tiniest voice, but I cannot adequately convey how loud the belly-howl is—until I come in and get in bed, at which point he purrs and cuddles me for 10 minutes then gets on the other pillow and goes to sleep.
He awakens me with purring and cuddles at 7:30 sharp, and I have until about 7:40 to get out of bed before he starts chewing on me.
No one tells you, before you get a Maine Coon, how schedule-obsessed they are.
When you were very very small- so small I wonder if you even remember- we met and you bounced ahead of me in leaps several times your length, upwards and onwards into trouble. You have move through life in much the same way ever since and yet you’re so changed; waiting for me so we can go up to bed together, looking at me when you cry for love, like how could I do anything but drop everything for you? I carry you upstairs in a liter and you seem to enjoy it mostly on the basis of being like your sister, exciting yourself to skulk in a especially cave-like box.
And you, you’re so long now, so warm, so willing to show me your throat so I can feel your purr there. I’m happy to oblige, to pet, to worship, and I think of a much smaller you, gone liquid and seeping into the cracks and behind furnishings so as not to be perceived.
When kitties gently put their little paw on you like, “hey, I’m here. attention pls?” And then they curl their little paw like they’re doing the best they can to grab you and pull you closer because they just want pets and love