Divisions and Precisions

This has been a test...

I had a tough time falling asleep. I finally managed, only to be woken out of a deep, restful coma by Pooka. Making bloodcurdling noises. In the living room, which is at the other end of the apartment..

At first I thought, "Wow, Rumpus must really be torturing her." Then I realized Rumpus was on the bed with me. Three-point-four seconds later, Pooka came barrelling into the bedroom, leapt up on to the bed, and stared fixedly out the window, her hackles raised, her tail as big around as my wrist.

Point seven seconds after that, she darted back to the doorwall in the living room and made sounds vaguely resembling a demon in a blender. By now I was getting creeped out, so I peeked out of the blinds to see what was outside. Either there was nothing out there, or Satan was hiding in the shadows where only feline eyes could reach, mocking me.

Or Pooka was just testing to see if my fight-or-flight instinct was working. Yup. All systems go here, Houston. I am never going to sleep again. Ever.

(If this had been an actual emergency, the signal you just heard would have been followed by the cats scrambling to hide under the bed. This concludes the test of the Feline Emergency Broadcast System.)