Little Miss Blap Herself
Cats are such interesting little people। They can be your best friend (on their terms, of course) and your worst enemy. Sometimes all of this happens within the course of 15 minutes.
Scooter likes nothing more in this life but to suffer. He excels at suffering. When we're eating...he rolls on his side to look like he's in his death throws...and presumably a small (or not so small) morsel will give him strength and reason to live.
He knows how to "work the crowd too. Erik gets the "I'm dying now...please drop it as soon as you can...and do you want to see me beg" routine.
I usually get "the look". I swear this cat knows that I can't handle that look he gives me.
Now before I get hoards of mail telling me how dangerous it is to give a cat table food...let me assure you we're not feeding him chili or any other combustible. (Heaven spare us from such a day!!)
Cricket on the other hand has no interest in begging for food. She's quite content with her Feline Greenies. It's not that Scooter isn't content with them...the fact is...he's content with everything food-wise.
Dinnertime...the cats' dinnertime usually goes something like this। Two bowls are filled...one for Scooter...one for Cricket.
The bowls are given out...and the grazing commences. Scooter will eat out of his bowl until Cricket is done...at which time, he finishes off her food and then comes back to his own. (Again...no letters...we've tried everything and this seems to work for both of them.)
So, there you have it। We've moved. Somehow the cats found out about it and followed us here. They're already as happy as toads (how do we know that toads are happy??) and all is right with the world...our little corner of it anyhow.