Last week I was again looking after my favorite Animal friends.  I'm so thankful that, as a kid I wasn't up to my neck in Pets, because I can enjoy the experience so much more now!  Of course, I'm sure there are many adults who grew up with animals, and who now, as adults, have pets for the sake of their children, and they're quite happy.  But I think they get a little jaded; they can't quite go absolutely bonkers about their pets the way people who have been pet-deprived in their childhood do!

I'm sure people who have grown up in a farm, say, look at the silliness of adults losing their cool with kittens and puppies, and just feel pity for them!  (When I say 'farm', I mean any household with pets; it's just easier to write 'farm.')

My friend, the owner of the animals, had bought a little dog-bed for her dog.  He sleeps anywhere except in his bed.  There are exceptions, but he generally sleeps on furniture, in front of the fire, all over the place. 

Somehow, my friend never got around to getting a bed for her cat.  The cat sleeps all over the place, too.  But if she happens to notice the dog bed, she walks up to it,  cool as you please, and hops into it and falls asleep. 

At first, I saw the dog march up to the dog bed and growl.  The cat just calmly stared at him.  That's all; they can't show any feeling in their faces, all they can do is stare.  After a brief minute of growling, the dog walked off.  (I can guess that this has happened before, and maybe the cat swatted at him, with her claws out, or something.)

Everybody knows that dogs want to be fed at all times of the day; if you feed them, they'll happily eat, until they burst.  In complete and utter contrast, the cat is fed at some convenient time, and she eats a little of it, and then does something else.  She proceeds to eat from time to time from that same bowlful, until it's gone, at which time she climbs into my lap, and sort of does some low-pressure pestering of me.

At first, thought she was getting very fond of me, and I was flattered!  After a while, I realized that perhaps she wanted something.  I asked her: what do you want?  She looked puzzled for a bit, and then she marched up to where her food was given to her (where the dog couldn't get at it, otherwise he'd eat the whole thing in a second), and then turned round and looked at me!  See, she seemed to be saying, it's empty!

I was in heaven; we were communicating!!  I'm not sure how excited other people would have been if this had happened to them!  Farm-raised humans—you know what I mean; not wild-caught humans—would have expected this, or even anticipated this problem, and said to themselves: her bowl must be empty.  But I had to learn; and she taught me!

The moment her bowl was filled, she settled down to chow down her usual two mouthfuls, and moseyed off to look at the birds through the window. 

Obviously this routine has taken place a number of times, and I'm no longer surprised by it; I just think about how much the real 'mommy' of the pets is missing, by taking it all for granted!

Kay