My mom is not an insomniac. That’s one of her few virtues. She has no trouble falling asleep and (usually) staying asleep, unless I wake her up or a cat jumps on her shoulder. (She is not at all happy when that happens.)
I sleep at the foot of mom’s bed, on my own dog cushion. It’s pretty comfortable, but I don’t always like to stay there. My mom thinks she will notice if I jump off so she drifts off to sleep, assuming the cat food is safe from my hungry jaws.
The problem is Ophelia (as usual). Ophelia is the only cat my mom’s ever met who seems to be afraid of heights. Ophelia refuses to eat on the kitchen counter like a normal cat. She wants her food on the floor. Frankly, Ophelia is so huge, I think she would benefit by missing quite a few meals. But my mom worries that Ophelia will stop eating and get liver disease again.
So Mom sets out the cat food every night before she goes to bed. Two dishes of delicious food. Yum.
This morning, Mom woke up to find both dishes empty.
“Gracie, did you eat all this?” she exclaimed.
I made a big show of looking sleepy, as if I hadn’t budged all night.
Now my mom was in a quandary. She won’t starve me. But if she gives me a normal size food serving, she’s afraid my sensitive tummy will act up and she’ll pay the price. So she compromised with a smaller serving.
Well, did I sneak away and eat that food? Or did Ophelia polish everything off and then retreat to her hiding place?
I know. But I’m not telling.