Mauno – The Loudest Soprano of the Night 🌙

The door of the cat carrier opens, and a sturdy striped fellow strides out in long steps to explore his home for the coming week. Mauno has arrived in Lempäälä for a cat holiday all the way from Loimaa. At first glance, Mauno seems like a relaxed and carefree young gentleman. Already on the very first day it becomes clear that this 3-year-old tomcat enjoys being part of whatever the humans are doing. However, Mauno’s servants warn us not to be fooled by his laid-back exterior: the young man may turn into a rather noisy troublemaker at night. Apparently, by four in the morning at the latest, a full choir performance begins—one that earns Mauno a quick exit from the bedroom. Mauno’s younger servant explains that this is precisely why grandma and grandpa have refused to host their furry family member anymore.

I glance at the calm-looking striped gentleman and wonder… really? Surely we can manage one Mauno. After all, we’ve had all sorts of night creatures here before.

Mauno settles in immediately, and the day goes by pleasantly. Our new guest joins in with everyday household activities just like any other family member, happily observing whatever the children and adults are up to. Mauno doesn’t want to miss a thing—he would gladly accompany us even on bathroom visits and tooth-brushing routines. At dinner, the smell of tacos drifting from the table awakens Mauno’s keen nose, while his own food suddenly seems far less interesting. Being a tall boy, Mauno makes his rounds from one diner to the next, stretching up curiously to see if perhaps something a little more exciting might come his way from the table. Unfortunately for him, tacos are not on the menu for guests tonight. The piece of saucy salad that falls from a child’s plate onto the floor is generously coated in ketchup. Mauno tastes it… and promptly spits it out. In the end, our guest has to settle for his own meal.

Later in the evening we watch a movie and fold laundry—and Mauno participates in both. Freshly folded towels make an excellent spot for observing the program. Surely they were placed there just for him. All in all, the service here isn’t too bad after all.

Late in the evening the whole house settles down for the night, and Mauno appears ready to do the same. During the early part of the night he sleeps sweetly stretched out beside the lady of the house. There’s a bit of mild adjusting and nighttime activity here and there, but nothing disturbing. Occasionally Mauno plays with fingers or toes, but otherwise he is quite a pleasant and reasonably peaceful sleeping companion. The night remains calm and quiet—until the clock strikes three and the silence is shattered by the first high-pitched meow.

Then comes another.And a third, an octave higher. Desperately I reach under my pillow for my earplugs—but Mauno has beaten me to them. During the night he has stolen one of my reusable plugs—naturally the only ones I can comfortably wear—so I’m forced to make do with just one.

Soon the rest of the household is wandering around like zombies, sleepily searching for earplugs. It’s all quite pointless, though, because no matter how deep you push them in, Mauno’s high voice still manages to pierce right through them.

Next, Mauno moves on to scratching at the other bedroom door, behind which there has so far been no movement. The door opens, but it seems that Mauno simply wants to make sure everyone can hear him. Our attempts to persuade our guest to sleep a little longer are futile—Mauno is no longer tired. His high-pitched concert continues for a full hour. By this point I am completely convinced that in a previous life Mauno must have been either an opera soprano… or perhaps a slightly out-of-tune but extremely enthusiastic rooster. Around four in the morning the master of the house finally surrenders and drags himself to the kitchen to brew an exceptionally early Sunday coffee. The moment Mauno notices that someone in this lazy household has finally woken up, he calms down immediately… and the rest of us (except for the master of the house who now keeps Mauno company in the kitchen) are finally able to continue our sleep.

When we wake up in the morning, Mauno is—what else—but fast asleep. He is the last one in the house to wake up and eventually strolls into the living room looking sleepy yet satisfied. With half-closed eyes he comes to rub against our legs as if asking:

"So… how did everyone sleep?"

Oh Mauno… he truly lives up to his name.

Now we also understand grandma and grandpa, who no longer agreed to host Mauno for overnight visits.

Perhaps for tonight we should build a little “scarecrow” to sit at the kitchen table and set the radio to turn on by 3:00 a.m. at the latest. Maybe even leave a bird-feeder program playing in the background—and as a strong Plan B, have the whole family sleep with earmuffs on.

Any other good—or perhaps slightly worse—ideas for living with a cat boy who enthusiastically belts out nightly serenades are very welcome 😅✌️

In reality, Mauno is simply so incredibly fond of people (and perhaps just a little bit clingy) that he would happily have active company not only during the day, but at night as well. For a small cat boy, the night must feel like such a terribly long time to stay awake and wait for humans to wake up. So Mauno decides to speed up the waking-up process a little.

And who wouldn’t enjoy some company? Here we are again, Mauno and I, stretched out together writing a blog about a certain unnamed night soprano.

Wishing sweet and peaceful dreams to all cat friends and their humans: Mauno and the CatBnB crew 🤎

P.S. If your cat is looking for a holiday spot (or if you are looking for a little holiday from your cat), our little cat inn also happily welcomes those furry grandchildren that even the grandparents no longer agree to babysit. 😄

#MaunoFromLoimaa #NightOwlDaytimeNap #LifeAtTheCatHotel

P.S.S. Now that we’ve already spent several nights with Mauno, here’s a little update on the situation. Mauno and I have been doing some nighttime “negotiations.” For the most part, we’ve solved things so that when the nightly singing begins, I invite Mauno over to join me. At that point I scoop him into my arms and suggest that perhaps we could sleep a little longer. After a few cuddles he usually accepts his fate quite well and agrees to stay for a short nap. With a bit of luck, even longer. And when he wakes up again, the concert doesn’t necessarily continue anymore—at least not quite as loudly. 🙈