Insomnia, Mexico and Roofus

The mention of our southern neighbor comes with part of the chorus from the old James Taylor song called "Mexico" stuck in my head. "Ooooh Mexico." That's about all I remember about it.
Well, Mexican food is one of the reasons I'm blogging at this hour. Enough said.
But the other reason is a cat named Roofus. I need to regale Blogdom with the tales of Roofus. As you read the stories, he may sound mythical. But he was a real, black cat who lived from around 1991 to March 1999.
He was the most intelligent cat I've come across to date.
Since I don't want to stay up until the alarm clock goes off, I'll just share a little bit about "Roofy". First, my Mom found him on the roof of a house - hence the name. He was a neighborhood cat who lived off the land, and the kindness of people like Mom.
She took him in and gave him to me, and he became my roommate in my bachelor pad overlooking Mobile Bay. He was an instant hit with some of the neighbors. He had a way of charming his way into many a heart even though he could be a bit on the rough and tumble side too. (Remember to tell them about how you'd get him back in the house when he was little.)
But somewhere along about 1993, when we lived in Talladega, Ala., he got into this habit: He'd wake up about 4 a.m. and want to go outside. Almost every day, without fail.
So now, when I have to get up and go to the rest room, it's usually sometime within an hour of 4 a.m.
The power of habit is amazing, especially when it's set by a cat.