There was a discussion regarding the tiny white bowl placed in front of my mancat cubbie. There had never been a bowl there before, and while I was witness to its placement, Buddah was not, and he did his best to convince me that drinking from it would be a huge mistake. It could be anything! Why take the chance?
I stared into the bowl and contemplated all the ways I could mess with him. I wanted to tell him it was tuna water; if he thought that it was, he would rush to drink it before I could, and while his face hovered over the bowl, I could dunk it with one might swipe of my paw.
Oh, I wanted to. I so wanted to.
But before I could make up my mind, the Woman told him to leave me alone. The water was for me and he had his own on the counter. Or he was free to drink from the fountain. Or even the little white bowl on the kitchen floor near my food mat. But she was not going to allow him to bother me in a moment she thought I wanted to drink.
She feels guilty.
A few days ago, while preparing my snack, she set her heel down right on top of my paw. I didn’t scream, but I let her know what she had just done was unacceptable and that I wanted an apology as soon as she was done scooping out the wonderful stinky, fishy goodness. I was perfectly capable of eating while she said she was sorry, and the food was more important, so it could wait a minute.
I did not get that apology.
What I got was, “Max, stop winding around my feet, you’re going to get hurt.”
Yes. Well. I started eating and we both forgot about it. Well, she did. I remembered the next day, when I had a little bit of a limp. And I really remembered yesterday, when my limp was pronounced enough that she carried me from room to room when it seemed as if there was somewhere I wanted to be. She brought me into the kitchen for food. She even took me to the litter box. And she watched me, so very closely.
At bedtime snack, it hit her, and she clamped her hands over her mouth while she groaned, “Oh no!” And that’s when she remembered that she’d stepped on me. And that’s when I got an apology.
A little late, but, okay.
As part of her catering to me, I was given this little bowl of water so that I didn’t have to move very far to get a drink. The Man brought snacks to me. It was pretty freaking sweet.
But then I got up this morning and I wasn’t limping nearly as much. So there’s been less catering, but it hasn’t gone away completely. I need to remember that when I get up tomorrow. Limp just a tiny bit so that they keep doing things for me, but not so much they call the stabby guy.
She did ask me to make sure that next time I get like this, or get sick, I not do it on a weekend when the stabby place is closed.
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