Most folks do this sort of organized catblogging on Fridays... but my darlings don't give a rip about Fridays. They prefer Saturdays. Especially Anastasia, the older but smaller and much more skittish of the two kitties.
Yes, that's right, my cats know when it's Saturday. Perhaps it's because Saturday is the only day when Hubby and I can stay in bed longer than 7:30, and then we don't have to rush around getting ready to leave the house (well, most Saturdays). At least, Anastasia knows - I don't so much think Katie cares.
The reason Stasia likes Saturdays so much is that we have this long-standing tradition of giving them canned food on Saturdays. The rest of the week they eat dry food and are just fine with it, but on Saturdays they get a treat. Katie isn't picky, she'll eat (too much of) anything you put in front of her, but Anastasia - tiny girl that she is - has always preferred canned food.
I started giving her canned food when she was pregnant (yes, tiny cat had kittens - 2 of them - several years ago). My roommate had a huge, greedy male cat that was eating the dry food, so we started putting canned food out for Stasia and she absolutely refused to share it with the male cat. She chased him off - which was funny to watch. So Hubby and I, when we realized that Katie was hogging the dry food so often, decided to start giving Stasia canned food, expecting that she would behave pretty much the same way... except she didn't. She loved the canned food, and she would attack it with great relish when we sat it in front of her, but she would edge to one side and allow Kate to stick her head in and share.
Anyway, the Saturday canned food has become such a tradition, that Stasia now has a sense about when it's time for her weekly canned food. She has been known to walk over us multiple times on Saturday morning to wake us up. This morning, she was more patient with me (I was up wayyyy late last night, although Hubby got up and left the house early to go to PromiseKeepers). I woke up at 11:30 or so, and she was sitting right next to my head, and as soon as I stirred she started meowing urgently.
She followed me out of the bedroom, as she always does, and stood impatiently meowing outside the bathroom door while I was in there. She ran to the kitchen as soon as I opened the door, and then proceeded to pace around the kitchen, vibrating her tail in anticipation as I prepared her plate.
Behold the cuteness (excuse the glowing eyes in the first picture, it was the angle of the flash - she's not possessed):