When we lived in California and I was still in my high paying corporate job I worked out with a personal trainer 3 times a week. Tiffany was a doll and I liked her so much I even followed her to a new gym. I got to know her husband Marty too. He was a potter of the starving artist variety and John and I bought several things from him including a wonderful fountain.
It is a large clay dish made out of natural colors. There are "rocks" in it, made of clay but they look quite real. They stack up in various configurations and the water pours over them.
When we first got the fountain I thought it would be a lovely Feng Shui accent in our home. I imagined relaxing to the soothing and blissful water sounds after I returned home from a stressful day of work. Or perhaps we would move it into the bedroom and I could fall asleep to a gentle babbling brook. John quashed that idea as he was convinced it would make us have to pee.
But our cats claimed it early on, say Day 1, as their water dish. And yes, what is even more insane is that we allowed it, even cooperating to the extent we removed their "real" un-used water dish from the laundry room. So today we have this lovely artisan fountain - situated on its own "display" table in our living room - that is basically a huge glorified cat bowl.
This time of year, when the house seems uncommonly dry, it is hard to keep the fountain properly filled with water. I will confess that John and I both forget from time to time to fill it with fresh water.
I awoke at 4:13 am, to the sound of knocking, persistent and annoying knocking. I burrowed down in the feather bed unsuccessful at my attempt to will it away. John was still asleep. I knew what it was of course. This has happened before, just not in the middle of the night. It was Merlyn, with his sidekick Izzy, both sitting on the table, Merlyn's furry paws in the fountain, batting the rocks around to create noise. Gil was involved too, watching from the floor because there was no more room on the table.
And this explains why I was up at such an insane hour pouring a pitcher of filtered water into our fountain.