Last night Gabriel joined me in bed, as he does every night. As usual he wanted to have his head rubbed, his belly tickled and his head rubbed some more.
Usually he sleeps late (as I do) and we get up together. Not this morning though. I woke up from a scratching on the door, followed by “Meow, meow”.
“Ssst,” I shushed sleepy.
This didn’t work, Gabriel cried and kept on crying, he pleas getting louder and louder.
“Gabriel,” I said, “come back to bed and go to sleep.” In reply he scratched the door some more and let out another couple of “meows”.
“Gaaaaaabriel,” I groaned, “pleeeeease! It’s too early, come back to bed.”
Gabriel wouldn’t hear of it and meowed more insistent than before.
“GABRIEL!” I yelled, now fully awake. “What is it with you? It’s too early."
“Meow” he said in response.
I could have just gotten up and let him out of my bedroom, but it’s was so warm in bed and I wasn’t quite ready to leave, even if it was only for a few seconds.
To my relief Gabriel left his spot by the door and jumped on my bed. He didn’t curl up though, he stepped on the bed’s headboard and sat there.
I turned over, snuggled under the covers and was just about to doze off when something hard landed right snack on my head. A stone duck was the culprit, knocked down courtesy of Gabriel he couldn’t keep his paws to himself. He knocked that duck down to get back at me for not letting him out.
Accidental or deliberate? One thing is for sure, when he start meowing tomorrow, I’ll open the door, who knows what else he has in mind.
From there on my day didn’t exactly get better.
While I was working on the computer later on, I suddenly heard a “tonk”, followed by “splat, splat, splat”. I was still trying to figure out what the strange noise was when I noticed something moving on Dieter’s nigh stand, where he keeps a fish tank.
On the night stand was a tiny fish, flipping and flapping like crazy. I immediately rushed to the rescue, but picking up a tiny, slippery fish proved more difficult than I expected. After a couple of futile attempts I resorted to wiping the fish with one hand into my other hand. Much like one would brush crumbs off a table.
I worked and once I had the fish I deposited him back into the water. Oh my heart, my poor heart. Even though I managed to stay calm during a crisis, once it was over I nearly went horizontal.
I had to tell someone, I had to share this near horrible experience. So I called the owner of the fish, Dieter. And what did he do when I told him the horrible tale? Not what I expected. He wasn’t shocked, he wasn’t worried, he wasn’t even sympathetic, he … burst out laughing. Thought the whole thing too funny. He even posted it on Facebook!
First a cat, then a fish … maybe I should stick to a bird or something.