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| Name: |
Waffle
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Age: |
Nine years old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Tabby
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| Home: |
Oakland, California, USA
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Waffle's
favorite sport is waking me up in the morning so I can feed
him. He employs an escalating arms race of tactics, beginning at about
5:30 a.m. He starts off with "the Vulture," which involves sitting near
my head and staring. If I happen to be quasi-awake anyway and I see
this, sometimes this gets me up due to the sheer unnerving quality of
the stare. If my eyes aren't open, he tries gently kneading the blankets
near my arm and purring, getting in a few "accidental" claw-pokes on my
arm in the process. Then, he escalates to meowing directly in my ear. If
I'm really tired and don't heed any of the kinder, gentler tactics,
he'll bring out the "jumpover." This consists of jumping over
my body and using the area of the bed near my head as a springboard for
a leap to the ground. As he's fourteen pounds, this is a sure wake-up call.
I've nearly had heart failure a couple of times when roused from a
particularly deep sleep. The worst part is, after he eats breakfast, he
comes back to bed and goes back to sleep. If you try to pet him, he
lifts his head with a look that says, "Stop bothering me - can't you see
I'm trying to sleep?" Waffle is a real character.
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