I had the overwhelming urge to sing in the dead of night.
It was quite dark in the bedroom, but a glint of moonlight streaming in compelled me to yowl quite boisterously. I then leapt from the bed and onto the chilly hardwood floor, where I yowled some more. No meek little cries for me! I really bellowed them out, and sounded quite good if I do say so myself.
My singing roused Softie from sleep and she groggily asked what was wrong. Nothing was "wrong" at all! I just felt like singing at 2:25 a.m. Is that so wrong?
I leapt back upon the bed and walked all over her, trilling and chirping and generally letting her know that I was happy and trying to share the love. She poked an arm out from beneath the duvet and gave me a half-hearted couple of strokes, and scratched under my chin.
We then fell back asleep.