An early riser, I typically get up around 4am and enjoy a nice, quiet half-hour of sipping coffee in the comfort of my recliner located in the dark and quiet living room.  My long-haired, gray cat of four years, Sophie, has come to respect this time as sacred and will not bother me to be fed until I emerge from the recliner and begin to prepare for my morning activity.  However, on the weekends, when I typically awake at the late hour of 6am, Sophie will usually greet me directly outside my bedroom door checking her watch with a look of disapproval.  She will then remain in tow, under foot, or on face (if I attempt to sit) until her dietary needs are attended to.

One Sunday being no exception, I sleepily entered the dark living room planning to set my coffee and cell phone down on the end table and feed the cat so as to purchase a few moments of undisturbed peace.  Unfortunately, before reaching my intended destination, I encountered the protruding footrest of my recliner left unclosed by one of my daughters who, despite my usual protests, fail to recognize the potential hazard this creates.  Meeting face to surface with the lampshade of a recently acquired floor lamp, I uttered an unnamed profanity while trying to avoid the loss of my recently poured coffee.  Upon, hearing my voice, Siri, who usually ignores me when addressed, replied in her most silence-splitting tone, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean by, Got animals.”

Sophie returned from the ceiling five minutes later to resume her begging…