When I was a kid, we had a toy Manchester Terrier that was clever and eager for things to do. Among other tasks, my mother had it trained to run down the hall on command and get my younger brothers up in the morning, forcing each brother out of bed and to breakfast as she separately called for them by name about fifteen minutes apart.
The rousting them by name part is impressive.
My parents had a cat that would do that. Little Shadow was a very, very smart little brown tabby. My mom would say, “Go get your father up,” and she would run to their room, and jump across the bed, back and forth, until he was on his feet.