Yeah, yeah. So, I left a couple of tiny turds outside – WAY OUTSIDE – my main litter box in the family room. Mama doesn’t get it yet. How long does it take her to understand that my wet food must be FRESH. That means, Mama dearest, nothing older than 1 day. You dig? Who do you think you are? But no, that’s the wrong question. Who do you think I am?
Listen up, Mameleh! I am a discerning gourmet foodie feline. You brought me up to eat nothing but the best, kosher, kitty food, right? So, now that I’m a 17-year-old senior with God knows how many more lives or days to live – you feed me day-old drekh, as if I were porch kitties like Sox, Binx, Nero, or Mittens, the latest immigrant kitty from next door. Give the day-old fresh to them. They don’t know the difference. How would you like it, if you went to one of those places you go to with the Old Man, and they fed you old food that had maggots in it. How would you feel? I’m surprised at you, Mama. I know how much you hate ageism, especially against women your age. But you don’t see or smell the ageism you’re showing against me, your precious indoor kitty, the queen of queens, the tortie one, praised be me!
Ok, ok. I forgive you. Here, let me wiggle my ears, to show you I know how much you love me, our old code. So, let’s start over- fresh, right now, at 14:30. I said FRESH, Mama. In clean bowls. No more drekh. You got it, I’m sure.
True to You 