Routine

It starts out the same every night. I uncurl from my comfortable cocoon and for whatever reason, I decide to get up. It's 2:30 am. I do this every night. I land on the floor with a soft thud. The warm friendly confines of the bed are now in the recent past as the cool hardwood floor now touches the pads of my feet. I stop and look around slowly. After surveying the area I determine that I need to move. Either to go to the bathroom, eat, or get a drink of water. All three can be found by heading toward the kitchen. I pad down the hall slow and steady. No hurry but not slumbering either. Deliberate and relaxed. I am the master of the domain and I am alone and it is quiet. Not a stir in the house. Perhaps a mouse is near but he certainly isn't showing himself now. I would make quick work of him. No matter, by now I decide to stop and soak in my surroundings. I head back to the bedroom. A little more purpose in my step now. Instead of heading back to bed I turn and start to paw at the other closed bedroom door down the hall. It makes scraping noises. It looks like I'm confused, like I don't know what I'm doing. I mean, really, I'm pawing a closed door. Perhaps it looks like I want to paw my way into the room. Well, that is not the case. I know exactly what I'm doing. I am making noise so that my owner will wake up and let me out. He does and I do. Mission accomplished. See, I am the family cat and this is what I do every night.