The Cat, the Soup, and the Towel

Sheena and I are up to our usual tricks this morning. We didn’t like our breakfast. Looking up at our servant we gave her the most pitiful look we could devise.
“What’s the matter with you two, don’t you like it? It’s a new flavour.”
“Meeow.” If only we could talk. Actually, the new food wasn’t that bad, but we weren’t going to be messed about; she could have asked us first.
“Come on, taste it, I’m sure you’ll like it.”
“Meeow.” We stood resolute, no way, we want our usual. So we cocked our heads to one side in the cutest way possible.
“OK,” she said, “I get the message.” She scraped the food into the bin and opened one of our regular tins.
It was working, cat power! When will they learn, these humans, we don’t ask much but we want it right. Every time.
“We’ll teach her, Sheena.” I gave my accomplice a subtle wink.
We waited until the replacement food was presented to us, and then ambled casually to our little door leading to the garden.
“Oh, really!” Our human said. “There’s no pleasing some! Well, it’s here when you want it.”
We passed the morning frolicking together, laying in the sun and chasing birds. What fun! People have no idea how to live; they think they’re so intelligent, going out to work and getting stressed. Who is cleverest then? Them, or us, who spend our days having fun and having a nap between sleeps?
By now we were getting hungry having foregone breakfast. Something was in the air, we sniffed together. Chicken! Yum, our favourite, well, after fish; we do love it when we get tuna now and again. We slunk back to the kitchen to find Barbara, that’s the name of our human, cooking at the stove. We sat on the window ledge and watched while she passed us glances and waves between spells of stirring the contents of her pan. Then the telephone rang.
We moved fast, leaping off the ledge and running for our door. A quick look around, all clear! We jumped onto the kitchen worktop to inspect the dish. Ah, yes, chicken soup! We each stuck our paws in the broth, ouch! It was hot but we got used to it and the pleasure of the taste overcame the concern for the temperature. Oooh, how good it was as we repeatedly dipped our paws and licked them.
In our gastronomic pleasure we had dropped our guard, we didn’t hear Barbara finishing her talk on the telephone. And then she came in, catching us red handed.
“This really is the last straw!” She shouted, rushing towards us swinging a towel at our tails. We scarpered back to the garden as fast as possible trying to find a place to hide. The sun lounger!
“Quick, Sheena! Hide under the beach towel that’s on the sun bed!”
We lay still and quiet, but Barbara hadn’t followed us out. Still, it was a pleasant place to stay, sheltered from the midday sun, so we curled up and fell asleep.
Sometime later I was awoken by a soft voice and gentle touch to my head. It was Barbara, caressing me and whispering words of adoration. That’s more like it! She had brought our food out to us too; we chuckled together at her folly.
Barbara picked me up and stroked me. This is nice I thought, but then I’m Leroy the cat, how can anyone not love me!

The Daily Post

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One thought on “The Cat, the Soup, and the Towel

  1. Ha! I have never had this experience of pickiness with any of my cats or dogs. They all pounce on their food and it is gone in less than a minute. Your kitties make for a funnier story, however. Judy

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