Harvey is a winder. If he thinks food is involved, he winds between any legs available, purring and making tiny cat sounds. It makes food preparation a treacherous business. Juno is a lounger, she picks an inconvenient spot, usually in front of the refrigerator, but sometimes in front of the sink or stove, and splays out, waiting for food to drop.
I prepared my toast and cup of cranberry juice and gingerly headed to the couch, Harvey still winding my ankles. Juno followed.
I placed my juice on the end table, sat, and reached for the newspaper. Harvey jumped up on the arm of the couch and stuck his head in my glass of juice.
"Hey!" I exclaimed, knocking his head out of my glass, "That's MINE."
Willing to yield the juice which he didn't want anyway, Harvey turned to my plate of toast. I saw where he was looking and raised my plate high but not quite high enough. Harvey stood on his back legs and hooked one paw over the edge of the plate trying to drag it down.
"HEY!" I yelled again.
I pulled the plate away and the cat, who was still balanced on the arm of the couch, fell to the floor.
Satisfied that my food was now safe, I started eating and turned back to the newspaper.
Leaving it resting on the cushion beside me, I read an article on the front page then opened it up to find it's continuation. Juno, lover of all things
"Hey!" I yelled, "I was reading that!"
Listening to all the commotion and no longer able to contain himself, Ray sprung from his chair to help me get the pesky cats under control.
Juno watched him race by then continued her assault on the newspaper. Harvey squirmed himself under the couch, then as the Ray circled back, stuck his head out to watch. I could tell he was considering a whack at the dog from the safety of his hiding place.
|Here he comes.|
|There he goes.|
Ray jumped from his chair to help. Harvey disconnected his claws from my sock and raced out from under the couch. Juno jumped from her perch and took off after him. Ray took off after the two of them.
I sat back down on my spot and picked up the shredded newspaper.
I think you've invented a new sport - "Extreme Breakfasting"!! I have to give you credit for persevering though. When I had my first foster dog - she had zero manners and since she was over 95 pounds - it was really hard to eat dinner since she was convinced all food was for her. I admit that until I had her trained better - I hid in the closet a couple of times so I could eat in peace.ReplyDelete
hahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Reminds me of Ray when we first got him. Although we didn't hide in the closet….Delete
Oh thank goodness life is never boring!! Can you imagine a pet free home? I cant either.ReplyDelete