My mom Cathy was so happy. Last night she was exhausted. She needed to feed Ophelia and the thought of heating up some water and mixing food with milk thistle (for Ophelia’s liver) and goop (the high calorie gel) … well, that was too much, even for my tender-hearted mom.
So she set down a can of Friskies turkey and giblets, right next to Ophelia’s special place in the closet. And Ophelia ate. And ate.
Yaay! My mom was so excited. She called the vet and left a message.
The vet deserves a medal. Mom also emails about the unusual things she finds in Ophelia’s litterbox. I would not be turned off (don’t ask what I eat in the dog park) but we have to be sensitive to our readers, says my mom.
As far as I am concerned…Big Deal. So she ate. I do it every day. I would eat all of Ophelia’s food, Creampuff’s food and my food, if Cathy would let me.
They tell me that cats have a special relationship with their owners. Personally, I think cat owners need a special relationship with their psychiatrists.
I am sleeping off a wonderful day of playing in the park with my Aunt Sara. Every dog and every human is my potential friend. And every piece of food is my potential treat.