Wednesday, March 25, 2009


Leelu head buts me over the covers. I squint with one eye as her second attack moves in to remind me that IT's TIME TO FEED ME. So I stumble from under the covers tripping and stubbing my toes on whatever the animals have played with overnight that now litter the floor and head to the bathroom where a private dining area has been erected for her eating pleasure. She leaps from tile floor to toilet to her counter top where she whines while waiting for the pop and kawhoosh of the lid of cat food.

The kawoosh of a can lid screams the siren call to all animals--the dogs and cats line up for the licking (akin to kids getting to lick the spoon, bowl and spatula of the remaining chocolate icing.) Plop and scrape; the whining grows insistant.

I use a cat food spatula--tiny enough to scoop every morsel from under the rim, although nothing beats the camel-like-tongue of our doberman mutt; she can sniff a microscopic morsel from 200 yards and beat everyone off the line to get it. She shows a "gimme" attitude for when she arrives on any scene, if another animal beats her to the morsel, she'll wiggle her large behind to insure she gets more than her share. It's hard to argue with the biggest butt around.

Meanwhile, Leelu, impatient, bounds off the counter, skimming the toilet seat (it's important to keep it closed for her access as well as keeping the dogs from using it as an alternate water bowl) and tangling my legs until I bang the dish on her counter alerting her to her breakfast pleasure.

Ah pleasure; she mews her 'thank yous' intermittently between bites. Chomp. Mew *thank you," chomp, Mew "thank you", chomp, Mew "this tastes great", chomp, Mew "thank you," chomp, "I love you." chomp, Mew "thank you" and so on until she's done. She's a social buterfly. I think she keeps up the conversation so I won't leave her to eat alone. Now, Jaz is anther story. Jaz, the cat, loves her privacy. But that's another day.

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