Our cat Sabrina came mewling around to chivvy us out of bed this morning. She usually does, if we're not up by 9:30. Keeping weird hours is an advantage of self-employment. The disadvatanges would make for a Victorian 3-decker handwringer. The cat doesn't appreciate the situation.

I seem to remember reading that cats have no sense of time, but Sabrina always knows when it's 9:30. A long time ago, when we lived in another house, she and her buddy Rachel used to keep earlier hours. As soon as the sun was up they'd be doing calisthenics on the bed. We took to shutting the bedroom door. They hammered with their paws. Finally we had to banish them to the basement at night. We provided some old blankets, on a shelf, next to the chimney. They curled up together and didn't seem to mind. If they did, we couldn't hear the complaints from the second floor.

Rachel's been gone for years. If cats truly have no sense of time, Sabrina must get up every morning, thinking her friend has just stepped out for a bit and will be back any moment. It would be nice to have no sense of time.