Our cats sleep on little fuzzy beds that are tucked into end tables in our living room. One end table provides the utmost in cat privacy - the kids can't get back there - while the other is between the couch and the computer desk, right out here for God and everybody. Our cat Piano likes to sleep in the corner and occasionally allows Forte in for some snuggle time, but most of the time Forte is chancing the open end table, where she gets petted and hugged and pushed by the kids. They believe themselves to be excellent cat bed movers, no matter how many times I object.
The benefit of the open-air cat bed is that you do get treats. This includes actual cat treats, bits of cat food, and, occasionally, a little bit of the kids' food. Sebastian knows to give meat (most of the time), but Audrey, not so much.
It came to my attention, just a little bit ago, that there was a pile of food on the edge of the cat bed, and that the cat was pressing herself farther back into the depths of the end table. Audrey was walking away, humming. Upon further inspection, I discovered that the food was, in fact, all of the mini apple cinnamon rice cakes I gave Audrey for lunch, broken up for the cat.
"Audrey," I said, "The cat doesn't like rice cakes!"
She raised an eyebrow, shrugged a shoulder, and turned away, humming again, and completely unsurprised.
It was then that I realized a few important things about my daughter: she loves to share, she doesn't understand cats' dietary needs, and she doesn't care for rice cakes.
No comments:
Post a Comment