Well, look who else beat the sun up this morning. The tom often is but the jane too. Bonus.

They’re home. And they have brought gifts. Canned food for me. Oh, you should have. And you did.

How about a quick gobble, request for more then long cuddle? The evening is looking up.

I have ahlf a bowl of food but I’m hungry. The tom and jane’s schedule is eratic. I want to conserve and stretch out what I have. Maybe one lick.

What to say. Bum itches. Food unimpressive. No sun patch. Dog nearby barking, little furball. Best thing to do is to nap it out and expect better tomorrow.

I tried the long-jump over the width of the bed on my zip around the room. I didn’t fully clear it. I more landed on the tom’s pillow really. I think I get points for practice though.

I am not fond of lumps
They have stunk.
I am not fond of pate
It is so passe
I am not fond of kibble
It makes me dribble
spit to whet my widdle
mouth, parched
arched patiently
over the water dish
that is virtually tepid
with algae. Guys
try harder to please.

He’s fidgeting. I throw him a a fixed stare to keep him in place.

He then stuck his tongue out and threw his head back as if to groom high on his shoulder. I watched with ear-heightned interest. but then he sneezed instead of licking. Ah well.

10 seconds of microwave? That’s my song.

Going to the laundry? Oh, look down around your ankles. See this hopeful gaze with litter-cleaning-look all over it?

6 food cans by my food altar? This is highly irregular.

What does this mean?

a) You humans are going to eat from my station since you eat directly from cans and I do not.
b) You have forgotten to put it in my bowl and if I wait you will correct that.

Tom’s sleep is shalllowing out.

Better zip over to the toilet tank and be there when he gets there.

You know what they say: if you wait until someone asks for what they want, you’ve waited to long. Anticipating need and routine is where all the best action is.