help from mother earth

1:10 a.m., in bed, tired of having Sundy, the shorthair, stomp over my pillow, I'm staring at the ceiling, hand on Sutra, the fat fluffy cat who snores, when there's a thump and a ripple passes under the bed. The cats tore outta there. Hm, earthquake, I said to myself. Now maybe I can get to sleep cat-free.