You know how I get to lick out Alpha’s porridge bowl each morning… right?
Well before when he’d tap the porridge bowl with his spoon indicating that he was done and it was my turn to clean the bowl, I would always nimbly leap off the bed and dash to his side.
These days mom has to heft me up onto the bed in the morning because my back paws are not as strong as they used to be.
Sadly there is no nimble leaping involved anymore.
On the up side, I now get to have brekky in bed.
Erm… to be technically correct – on the bed!
Hroofhroof.
For weeks now Ralph has been questioning the fact that I get a bit of special treatment when it comes to grub.
He’s even taken to walking over the counter in the kitchen to peer into my dinner dish – to double check that I am not getting anything other than my regular supper.
In fact, when mom sometimes slips me a bit of chicken or some other tasty morsel he glares daggers at her.
Burns holes in her back if she’s not looking at him until she relents and gives him a tidbit too.
Although she’s always telling him that he’s too heavy as it is.
Quite funny that – nobody is allowed to call me a pudgie Fudgie without Mom getting all indignant (while we both know this is not actually too far from the truth) but she quite happily calls Ralph a fat cat.
Anyhow… this particular morning Ralph had already ensconced himself on the bed when mom hoisted me up.
A bit later on, when Alpha passed the porridge bowl over – he peered in my direction through slitty eyes.
No ways. After being chucked out of my own baskie I am now very sensitive to Ralph’s powers of persuasion.
I gobbled faster.
He shook one paw and lifted his head.
My tongue worked extra hard to slurp up all the squishy bits that were lurking in the bottom of the bowl.
That creature padded over to the bowl and actually peeped inside.
Chunky chop bones.
What a cheek!
I gave him the nose. Oi! You! Get away.
He sat down – not far enough away for my liking – and glared at me.
I ate it all.
