Pet Parenting
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5 Ways That My Cats Are My Alarm Clocks

Who needs an alarm clock when there's a cat to chew your hair and walk across your bladder?

Angie Bailey  |  Nov 7th 2016


Those of us with cats know there’s no need for setting a morning alarm. Our kitties are reliable waker-uppers, and we don’t even have to set them. Their internal clocks are flawless — I swear it’s atomic or something.

Just because kitties know when to wake us up, that doesn’t mean they always do it in the most gentle manner. Their “alarms” are nothing like the tinkly windchimes I’d choose on my phone’s clock app. They prefer to approach their very important job with more direct methods. Here are five of my cats’ favorite moves.

1. They walk all over me

"What's a bladder? Also, wake up."

“What’s a bladder? Also, wake up!”

Cats are fuzzy little cuties, but when they walk across your horizontal body, their feet feel extra pointy. I don’t know about you, but I wake up with a screaming urge to pee. This does not bode well for my body when cat paws are applying complimentary acupressure to my about-to-burst bladder. My Phoebe specializes in this type of wake-up call, which is good because Cosmo is about twice her weight. Nobody wants a 12-pound tuxie strolling the length of their slumbering body.

2. They knock stuff onto the floor

"These items look relative to my interests."

“These items look relative to my interests.”

Cats are like small children, and I should know because I’ve raised both. When they don’t get their way the first time, they look for other opportunities to gain attention. My cats — especially Phoebe — go straight to my nightstand or dresser and start batting objects onto the floor. I can’t tell you how many tubes of lip balm I’ve found under my bed. Really — I could open a pop-up lip balm store on the corner.

3. They attack my feet

"I win."

“I win.”

This tried-and-true alarm means good times for a kitty, but a rude awakening for a human. When my cats want to persuade me to haul my butt out of bed and feed them, they sometimes look for “games” to make the process more fun — for them, anyway. I’m not a super solid sleeper and find myself shifting around a bit throughout the night. That means my feet are regularly on the move. Feet moving under a blanket means pure entertainment for a cat, with the added bonus of making us uncomfortable so we just get out of bed and place the food in the bowls. Of course we’ll leave bloody footprints as we make our way to the kitchen.

4. They howl in the hallway

Sometimes I have to walk into the hallway to turn off my alarm clock.

Sometimes I have to walk into the hallway to turn off my alarm clock.

You know how some heavy sleepers place alarm clocks on the other side of their bedroom so they have to get out of bed to disable them? Cosmo has created the equivalent of that scenario. When he’s ready for me to rise and shine, he wanders the hallway outside my bedroom and howls. There is no snooze for this kind of alarm. It doesn’t cease until I climb out of bed and follow him into the kitchen.

5. They get knead-y

"You don't like biscuits for breakfast?"

“You don’t like biscuits for breakfast?”

Sometimes my kitties choose the snuggle method for waking me up, which, in theory, is comforting. However, the snuggles usually come with lots of serious kneading on various parts of my body. Normally I don’t mind biscuit-making because it’s adorable and makes my kitties feel blissed-out. It becomes distracting only when it happens during my sleepytime. I’ve yet to find a way to remain asleep while the biscuit factory is in full swing.

6. They get in my face

"Hi. Hi. Hi."

“Hi. Hi. Hi.”

“Hi. Hi. Hi. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” Sometimes my cats skip all the “pleasantries” and get right up in my face. Cosmo touches me with his wet nose, and Phoebe chews my hair. This is a “we mean business” move, and they don’t give up easily (ever). On “special” occasions, they tag-team me and then I have absolutely no chance at all. I should, however, count my blessings because the nose-in-the-face and hair-chewing are way better than opening my eyes to see a cat anus inches from my face. Oh, yeah — that’s happened, too.

How does your cat act as your alarm clock? Tell us in the comments!