Quarter to nine... that is about fifteen minutes earlier than my four-legged mother hen used to come find me to let me know that it was time for me to end my day. It has been about two years, and I still miss that cat. Her “wake up call” was less subtle: she would stand up on her hind legs and pound the (already open) bedroom door with her front paws until it would bounce off the doorstop, after which she would bop it right back and thus set up an unholy racket of banging a hollow wooden door back and forth.
cats love you lots ping