Saturday, November 13, 2010
conversation with Cat
About 7:32am Rocky jumped up on the bed, and bit my hand. Not enough to hurt, just enough to wake me (which was his plan, I know).
So, we had to have a serious conversation. It went like this:
Me: Cat, you are making a big mistake biting that hand. I am the person that feeds you every morning. Feeds you that disgusting liver and tuna combo that you love. I'm the one that buys that food.
Cat: appears to be listening. Tips head ever so slightly to the right
Me: I have never been rough with you. I have never picked you up by the head, swung you around, trapped you in the closet or tied a string to your tail. I am the person who is gentle with you -- always. I clean your litter box every day. I make sure you have fresh water from your favourite clear glass bowl (not stainless, not Corel). I clean the goop out of your eyes. If you think for one minute anyone in the house would take over any of those jobs, you are sorely mistaken. They don't even take care of themselves.
Cat: (this is how I know he is really smart, and understands everything I say) scoots up the bed on his belly, like a commando, rests his tiny chin on my chest, puts his front paw on my hand, sighs and then starts to purr.
Me: I'm glad we've come to this understanding, let's go get you some breakfast.