Surrendering with Grace

Long before the alarm is set to go off, a small paw brushes insistently across my cheek. When I open my eyes, I see a black cat sitting alarmingly close, his green eyes focused intently on me, one paw poised in mid air. Go 'way, I tell him, It's too early. The paw reaches out and rests on my forehead, firmly and with purpose. I dig deeper beneath the covers and try to hide but this only serves to initiate a full scale attack - with a loud meow of protest, he throws all his weight against me, waking the other animals and escalating the situation to defcon 3. He's made up his mind to be hungry and the fact that it's barely 4am is irrelevant. Resistance is futile and I recall my daddy saying, You're never so badly beaten that you can't surrender with grace. So I do.

In the dark yard, the dogs immediately raise an unholy ruckus and race for the back fence, probably in pursuit of one of the neighborhood cats, but possibly on the scent of a maurauding raccoon or my old friend, the possom. I doubt it makes much difference, the chase and the amount of commotion they can create seem to be the main objectives. Just as I finish doling out catfood, they return and crash against the back door, jarring my senses fully awake. There will be no peace until the cats are done and I give the dogs the remnants, a process that cannot be hurried despite my best efforts. They badger me with pitiful barking, twining around my ankles like small wind up toys. You don't have to yell, I tell them in my best discipline voice, It won't help. Some twenty minutes later I crawl back into bed, hoping against hope for just one more hour, but sleep - a transient and disloyal friend at best - has wandered off to be with someone else and returns just seconds before the tiny clock begins its noisy wake-up chirping. Real morning has arrived and at the sound of the alarm, dogs and cats alike go into a frenzy, the 4am incident already forgotten. I'm left to wonder just how much grace or surrender I have left.

After a shower and half a chocolate bar, I discover that I do still have a reserve of both, at least, I think, enough to get me through the day. Tomorrow is too far off to fret about.