On a typical evening, I am accosted at the interior door by flailing limbs and peanut butter breath. This evening was different. Someone else had taken over Shiva’s greeting duties and I was instead faced with this:
If the look on His Excellency’s face means anything, I had messed up, big time.
Desperate to make amends, the first thing I did was check his food bowl. To my surprise, it was almost as full as it was this morning. Then I checked the three water dishes, all placed in strategic locations around the house. But they were all full as well. So what was his damage?
Deciding to ignore his glare, I took the dog outside and then collapsed on the couch to fire up Facebook. After scrolling my newsfeed, still giggling over the latest George Takei photo, I finally realized the cause of the Kitty Meister’s impatience.
Today is January 22nd, the most important day on the feline calendar – National Answer Your Cat’s Questions Day.
Since I forgot this holiest of cat holidays, I am a jerk. The only way to make it up to him is to sit down and hear what he has to say. The problem with that is, after last year’s debacle when all he did was demand I feed him our pet fish, I am really not interested in pandering to his selfish demands. Heck, I feed him expensive food, brush his glorious fur, and furnish him with cozy places to sleep. Yet no matter how much I do for him, he blows me off every time I want a smidgen of affection. He nigh taunts me with his disinterest, rubbing his body around my legs and then dashing away the instant I lean down for a pet. If anyone should be making requests around here, it is me.
Alas, I am a sucker. One look at those inscrutable eyes and I find myself giving in. It is the day for it, and all. One question wouldn’t hurt. Right?
Me: Okay, Kitty. You win. You get one question. Go.
The Cat: I am The Cat, you are my human servant; I will have as many questions as I please.
Me: Is that your question?
The Cat: I believe I am the one doing the asking here, not you.
Me: Is that a yes? There is wine that needs drinking, I don’t have all night.
The Cat: Fine. Ugh. No wonder you humans are such wretched hunters. No patience.
Me: Hey, if you’re willing to sit in my lap, I will answer your questions all night. Until then…
The Cat: Gag me.
Me: Still waiting, Cat.
The Cat: This is a two-part question.
Me: Of course it is.
Me: One, never and two… That is not a question! That’s it. Interview over!
The Cat: No, really, because it’s quite disgusting… Wait, where are you going? I didn’t give you permission to leave. Oh, what is that I smell? Is that ambrosia? Is that the most delectable treat in all the world? I must have it!
So much for that. At least it is easy to shut him up.
Does your cat have any questions today? If so, I sincerely hope they are less insulting.