Who needs an alarm clock...

...when you have a silly little cat running around?

Our sweet and wonderful Dido (yes, named after the Queen of Carthage [check out Virgil's Aeneid] and the British pop singer, but I digress) is still adjusting to us moving houses. At our previous residence, she got the message that she wasn't allowed in our bedroom while we slept, and thankfully she stopped clawing at the door after a couple of nights of inattention from her caretakers.

Now that we moved, we must have felt sorry for her. Or maybe we felt a greater attachment to our carpet (that happens when you actually own the carpet). Nonetheless, we now let her in our bedroom at night.

Which is all well and good- until about 5 or 6 in the morning. She has taken up sleeping in our walk-in closet, which I think is the cutest thing in the world. But once she awakens, she knows how to get us out of bed- start scratching at Angela's prized quilts (handmade by her grandmother and in the corner of our room).

Great ire can be spewed at 6am when one's delicate possessions are ostensibly being ripped to shreds. Thankfully, no harm as of yet.

This morning we decided to just lock her out of our room- so she started tearing up the carpet. It's war, kitty....

DcD