I'm beginning this post in the bathroom this morning because I am classy like that. As in, I'm talking about the bathroom, I'm not writing this in the bathroom. Sigh.
So I'm in the bathroom this morning and what do I see? A little gray fur paw under the door. It was moving around, back and forth and wrapped around the bottom of the door (so the paw owner must have been on his back to do that acrobatic stunt).
What was he thinking? That'd he'd catch me? We've done this trick before... paw under door, and the moment you touch it WHOOOSH! paw gone. He's been on the other side of the bathroom door lots of times, so what does he think he's going to find? It's like an odd fishing expedition.
So I open the bathroom door and I find....
three cat monsters staring. I felt teamed up on. Like I had no choice but to offer food and abide by cat mob wishes. Really, I knew they were hungry, but the cat mob... and they all were looking at me like a human would with one eyebrow raised.
"Oh really? Have you REALLY not fed us yet? Tisk tisk tisk..."
My life in the mornings has become an exercise in agility. Avoid dog crate. Step over pet gates. Lift food, don't spill. We have the cat set-up in a room with a small pet door on it because Fluffybutt loves to scarf down cat food. Seriously. Scarf down. WOLFS that food down. I wish they could put whatever's in that cat food in her dog chow. I'd have the largest pup on the block.
So I grab the cat food scoop, walk into the cat set-up room, pour the food in and get fresh water for the monsters.
When all is said and done, do you think they are eating? Nope. They look smug, the beasts, as if they're thinking "boo ya, told you we could get her to do it."
Cat mob: 1, Me: 0.
On an unrelated note, I ate too many pear tomatoes that one of my secretaries brought in yesterday. Gurgle gurgle stomach is not good. But they were oh-so delicious.
Beaver Hill Woodcrafters Gypsy Wagons
12 hours ago