Cleaned house then tried to leave to meet friend for lunch. I say ‘tried’ because just as I was nearing the door handle cantankerous cat threw herself on the floor in front of me, and meowed pityingly.
I attempted to step over her, at which point she jumped up, tangled herself round my legs, pinned back her ears, lunged and tripped me up.
She sat up, looked down her nose, and let me know (in no uncertain terms) that I wasn’t getting out of the house without feeding her. For an old cat she’s got an alarmingly aggressive meow when she needs it. So, I dutifully went back into the kitchen – muttering about owning a cantankerous cat.
Glanced at her food bowl – half full. Well, full around the edges but empty in the middle. That’s her definition of an empty bowl. I looked down at her. She looked up at me. I was now late. Inspiration hit. She glared at me – if she’d had opposable thumbs she’d have been clicking them by now. I grinned at her.
I got a fork, went to her bowl, pushed all the food from the edges into the middle and stood back. She went over to it, stuck her nose in, sniffed and looked back at me with an expression that clearly said ‘Really? I think you’ll find I ordered fresh food, and pushing the old stuff around with a fork just ain’t gonna cut it!’
I trundled into the utility room, fetched a new pouch of food, got out a clean dish and served madam her fresh meal. She walked past me, head held high and tail aloft, looking like the cat that’s got the cream. Or in her case, the cat that’s got a worryingly firm grip on the two-legged saps she lives with…