Darn it, Pavlov. At no point did you warn what would happen when the pets began to take your studies and turn them on us.
You knew it was coming, right? Well, a heads’ up would have been nice. But noooooo.
Sigh. I have gotten ahead of myself. Allow me to backtrack a bit.
Now, Nala is always hungry. If I feed her all that she wants, then I wind up with a tub of fur and the vet looks at me like I cannot control the dietary intake of a simple animal. So, in order to avoid judgmental glances, and to promote healthy eating in my domain, I feed her a bit at a time.
I even embrace Pavlov. When I snap my fingers twice, that means she should run to her food bowl. She does! Science! Well, science moves too slowly for some.
I used to wake up at five in the morning. Now, due to work issues, I need to wake up at four or sometimes three. Is that early enough for the Annihilator? Negative. She will come for me. She will ignore the fact that I am sprawled out in bed, not eating anything myself. She will demand food.
Sometimes she will gently nuzzle me. Sometimes she will take her annihilating paws and swipe at my face. But in the last few months, she has used technology against me.
This is my alarm clock. I have had it since high school. Yeah, the tape deck is iffy. But the LEDs all work. And all the power buttons, of course, are on the top, where one might reach them with minimal effort.
When I am rudely awakened, I get up, walk to the other side of the bed, and push the button on top to turn off the alarm. Nala figured that out.
As Nala felt her tummy growling, she would hop up on top of the clock. She would fumble around. And she would turn on the music. Voila. Up goes me to turn off the darn thing. And, since I was up, I might as well feed the cat too.
Evil genius. That is what I share an apartment with.
I put socks on top of the buttons, hoping that it would deter her. That with enough piles of fabric, her paws would fail her. Sadly, no.
“Why not unplug your alarm clock and use your phone?”
Because the only two reasons to have an alarm clock are to tell time and to have an alarm. It is right there in its title. Who am I to deprive the alarm clock of its purpose? Also, phones do not belong in bedrooms. Nope.
This morning, I broke out the nuclear option. The layers of socks did not work? Fine. Bring on the cardboard. I went full-cozy on the sucker. Take a box, remove the top (or bottom, I am not picky), and then cut a hole in the side so you can still see what time it is. Ta-da.
(The cat food bowl will not stay on top of the alarm clock. It was an endurance test. The food bowl goes back on the floor.)
Nala the Annihilator, presented with a new setback, will have to revert to scratching at my face to get her conditioned response.