Gold Medal Head Jumping

Da Goddess @ 05:36

If head jumping were an Olympic sport, Fletch would have a bazillion gold medals.

He loves to jump up next to me at around 04:15 every morning, sniff at my face, and then leap over my head, running away furiously after.

This is his way of saying he’s ready for breakfast. Breakfast isn’t served until 06:00.

When he doesn’t get the response he wants, he’ll repeat this routine until he realizes I’m not budging, at which point he climbs to the top of his cat tree and meows pitifully. When that fails to get a response, he paces around me. Then he tries head jumping again. Or head butting me. Or purring.

Sometimes, only sometimes, he’ll begin this song and dance at 03:30. When he does this…grrr… when he does this, I do my level best not to yell at him. For one thing, it wouldn’t do much good. For another, it would wake King Arthur, which would not bode well for anyone. And, lastly, it would kind of be like reinforcing his bad behavior.

It takes great patience and willpower to ignore begging kitty behavior. Mostly because some of it is rather adorable. Like the meowing. It’s so girly! And a little pathetic. But mostly girly. And he’s not at all girly. Plus, the leaping is really athletic. Irritating, but wildly athletic.


I love Fletch. He’s a nut. He’s a crazy, relentless, furry, adorable nut and I’m glad I’m his guardian.

(But he really deserves some Olympic level medals.)


  1. That’s why the dogs don’t eat breakfast til 9:00a. Oh, they still start the begging process at 7:00a, but when they ate earlier… well, it wasn’t pretty. ;)

    Comment by pam — 2018/02/05 @ 04:50

  2. There are mornings when Fletch doesn’t get fed until later. If I’m dead to the world, he’s very patient. At least I think he is — I can’t be certain because I’m obvs dead to the world. All I know is I’ll wake to a furball looking at me with eyes that say “I’m STARVING TO DEATH PLEASE FEED ME PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE! But wake up gently so you still adore me and be quick about it thanks.”

    The worst time of year is during the time change. He doesn’t understand why he can’t eat when he thinks it’s time to eat. So we start the process of getting him on the new schedule by adjusting feed time in ten minute increments. The protests are LOUD, I can assure you.

    Comment by Da Goddess — 2018/02/06 @ 11:25

  3. We LOATHE daylight savings time! I don’t adjust the dog feed times, though… which means half the year they eat at 8 and 5 and the other half 9 and 6. ;)

    Comment by pam — 2018/02/13 @ 11:59

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