So here I am living the life of a happy indoor kitty, putting up with my cranky brother Scruffers. Life seemed good. Simple, routine, and perfect. What kitty doesn't appreciate a simple routine? I get up, meow at everyone else to get up, I get fed, I take a bath, run around, take a nap, repeat. What part of this perfect routine says "please change"? NONE of it!
I woke up this morning and Heather attempted to feed me a meal I had never tried before. Where does that fit into my routine? No where. Duh. I ate a little and let her know how angry I was. But Heather must be really dense because she fed me the same stupid thing for dinner.
You realize I don't like change, right? So why are you trying to change my meals? Humans can have all the variety in the world. I'm a kitty. I don't need variety. (Hmm, by that logic, maybe Heather's dad is a kitty too...)
I didn't give in for dinner. I ran away. I ran around in circles and meowed at Heather till I lost my breath. Then I tried to bury my dinner. Finally - two hours later!!! - Heather gave in. She went into the garage and pulled out some of the wet food I like and poured it over the top of my rejected dinner.
OK, I admit it, I compromised and I ate it. I was hungry by then, you know. But I'm still not letting Heather anywhere near me. I sat with my back turned to her at the dining room table so she'd see how angry I was. Am.
I need to learn how to use a can opener.
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