Every time I time I think I'm in charge of the house, Pip and Olive like to remind me who's really running the show. It's a puppet regime and the puppet has yet to figure out what went wrong or when he lost control.
Ken is such a heavy sleeper they don't even bother. They sense my weakness and so my day typically begins around 5:30 AM when they decide I need to get up and tend to their every whim. It doesn't usually work, as I bat them away for the next half hour or so––if I'm lucky––but around six they begin the yowling in earnest and proceed to bat their cold noses against my cheeks and then commence the tag-team staring until I get up.
Roo is the lucky one. They leave him alone in his kennel and let him sleep until a more polite hour. And once they're done with breakfast and I'm left to take care of myself they curl up next to Ken for a nice long, post-breakfast nap.