Yes, it is 8 a.m. on a holiday, and I am awake. Why? His orange-and-white highness decreed it be so. It is common for Linus to rudely awaken me, because Dear God it has been eight hours since anyone pet him. He has been known to plop his 20 pounds right on my face, to endlessly knead the pillow right in front of my face, and to walk back and forth across my stomach. Once, he dug around in my hair for a few seconds and then bit me on the top of the head. All in the name of gaining attention, because he is insatiable. Literally the part of his brain that says, “OK, I’m good now” has been lobotomized, theoretically to make room for storage of more water so he can optimize his laying-down-at-the-water-bowl drink sessions and turn them into five-pound pee-cakes in the litter box. But I digress. This particular morning, we had actually been asleep for many hours, thanks to a suitcase I left out after last weekend’s Portland trip. Linus loves bags. He cuddles with tote bags. He makes out with purses and then puts his front paws inside and goes to sleep in a state of apparent bliss. And he has spent at least 80 percent of the last week sleeping on top of my un-put-away suitcase, which Steve has termed “The Decoy.” The suitcase is slightly misshapen now, but we are too giddy with sleep to care. Linus has not woken us up in the middle of the night all week. This morning, though, he hauled himself off The Decoy to knee me in the eye and lick my nose. I rolled over, but he trudged across my body to the new location of my nose and recommenced licking. I rolled over again. This continued until I was quite awake. Sometimes I can focus his attention on Steve, instead, but not today. Today, I must type one-handed.