Hissy and Licky

I had been sleeping since around midnight. All I can hear is crunching, and crunching and more crunching. It's 4:00 AM. I get up walk down the hall shut the pocket door, and the french door, and walk back down the hall again. There waiting for me is the cruncher, sitting up in her basket, anxiously waiting my return.... move it out missy.. as she begins her long scary walk down the hall. She's bumping into me the whole time... then cautiously surprises herself and makes a bee-line for the laundry room... regrets that move, crashes into my leg, and follows my lead. I open the sliding glass door... be free basket cruncher.....as she scampers away. Next.... from the depths of the living room it starts. Hissy wakes up. Hiss, whine, cry. Hiss, whine, cry. The french door heaves. Hiss, whine, cry. Another attempt at banging the french door. "Wait your turn", I say.... I am now sitting at the computer, which I awoke from its slumber... and it's now busy blinding me. I can hear the basket cruncher still moving around outside... she's confused.... not certain what her next move should be... after all its dark.. everywhere except for that orb in the corner... I call to her, and she re-enters the kitchen and sits down next to me.. and starts to lick... lick, lick, lick .. my hand. The hissing, whining and crying has become almost more annoying than the basket crunching. Except now I am awake....not dreaming the crunching sound. Licky wont move... she has decided that under no circumstances she will be making her way back to her basket crunching... she gives me her paw... licks that then licks my hand. This step gets repeated over and over...until I give her her paw back.. then do the quick stand routine.... all right missy.. back to bed.. realizing her danger level is at a low level, she slowly makes her way back to the basket.. settles in and sighs. Now for the hissing beast behind the french doors... she is what nightmares are made of. She rushes out, comes and slams her body up against the chair that I am sitting in.... throws up her paw, falls to the floor... then eyes that the sliding door is still open... in a heartbeat I hear her tinkling around the backyard..... she has not returned... all is quiet. There is the occasional tinkle, and she is just waiting, and waiting to see if the basket cruncher will return, so she can attack from the depths of darkness..... Eventually, she gets bored of  her early morning hunt and makes her way back inside... and takes her post on the leather couch in the den. All is quiet and still once again. Well, except for the psychotic owner who is clicking away at her keys at four freaking thirty in the morning. Freak.