September 25, 2007
Tom and I got home from what could never be described as a low-impact Monday. I wasn’t in the best of moods, but I knew a triple furball greeting was awaiting me, and it made me smile. As we walked through the door, Spooky, our Maine Coon was the first to greet us with his high pitch “meep, meeeeeeeeeeep!” He twirled a few times on the tile floor scampered spastically into the bedroom and started clawing at the rug like a maniac. Not sure what that means exactly, but I got the idea he was happy to see us. This was Joey’s cue to waddle over to me, head butt my leg a few times, “meeeeyattt” 3 times, then waddle, more quickly this time, into the kitchen. They all know what time it is. It’s time for wet food, or schmear, as we call it. Even Iggy, our painfully shy little calico girl, condescends to join us in the kitchen.
It was after they had all gathered that I realized, not without a few choice expletives, that we had neglected to replenish the schmear supply. There’s plenty of kibble left in their bowls, but that will never do. They’ve had quite enough of the kibble, thank you very much. Where’s the schmear?!
Tom offers to go out and get the wet food and runs out the door, leaving me with 3 very annoyed kitties. They begin to circle me, taking turns shooting me accusing looks. “What?” I shout at each of them defensively. You’re dad will be back any minute!”
They don’t buy it. The air fills with tension.
There are several things I can do around the house while waiting for Tom, but I decide to stay in the kitchen, and bang dishes around, to give them the impression that I’m preparing their dinner. They’re not fooled. They just continue to stand there in a half circle staring up at me with growing disdain in their eyes, causing me to feel more and more guilty. Do I really need this after the day I had? I don’t think so.
Finally Tom shows up with bag full of cans. I thank him, grab the bag from his hands and pop open a can. As soon as they hear that sound, the air clears of all tension. They eat. They’re happy once again.
The guilt trip is complete.