The cat sleeps with us. It’s very cozy, very intimate. But he likes to get up at 4 or 5 in the morning, and he wants us up too. He’ll poke me with his paws and climb the walls to knock the picture frames around. So we put him out of the bedroom. We make him wait until 7, but he scratches at the door. He wants us up! Why? To eat and play. He doesn’t have a big agenda, when you think about it, but he’s insistent. He already has dry food in his bowl, but he wants his wet food. He wants the grilled-salmon Fancy Feast, not the chicken Iams Proactive Health (I guess I would too). He’s scratching at the door like it’s an emergency, like a child is trapped in a well, but all he really wants is slightly better-tasting food, and for me to dangle a piece of twine for him. Like if I pounded on my neighbors’ door, yelling, “Let me in! Let me in!!!” They open the door, and I say, “You got any chips? Any cold cuts? All I have is toast and peanut butter, and I’m tired of it. Oh, and do you mind if I play a few games on your Xbox?”