No, No, I Think You'll Find Cats LIKE Hot Wings

My Dear Princess & Dear Fellows,

Punky is typically a solitary little fellow. And when he wants company, he usually wants it from Caro, not me. 

The only exceptions to this rule are when he gives me "The Hairy Eyeball". See the extra for an example of this. He PEERS at me from the end of the couch, clearly trying to get my attention. If cats could clear their throat, he'd be clearing his throat.

"Excuse me, if you please..."

I never know what he wants. He's a bit inscrutable. If he leads me to the kitchen I assume he wants fed, but oftentimes I'll put down a bowl of food for him and then he backs - HORRIFIED - away from it, like it is a bucket of slugs. 

Sometimes he wants his brushy. But even then it is hard to say. I'll get on the floor with him, brush in hand, and then he immediately effs off. And at my age, it is not like it is a lot of fun getting up off the floor. After a heavy meal, this manoeuvre can involve two of us and a winch. So I'm not very happy with him when he does that. 

Most of the time, I find he wants nothing much in particular. He just wants to prowl and is too scared to do it by himself, so I go with him as he checks every room for surprise dogs. He purrs, as he does this, and rubs his chin on furniture. It clearly makes him happy though I'm never quite sure why.

He's also a bit funny when it comes to "people" food. When I'm eating, he'll suddenly APPEAR. He sniffs the air and looks hopeful, as in the picture above. Sometimes the strategy works if we are eating something he likes. The problem is that, a lot of times, he's not remotely interested. He just WANTS things but when he GETS a taste, he turns his tail and informs us, "Cats don't LIKE sausages. Don't be so stupid."

Of course, sometimes he doesn't even get. I ordered chicken wings with a delivery pizza tonight and immediately Punky did his thing. Bearing in mind that MY mouth was burning and my lips were afire, I wouldn't even think to offer any to Punky. He seemed most affronted, but even if I were mean enough to let him try them, I wouldn't want to be around a cat box full of burning turds the next day.

In the end, Punky made do with regular non-sriracha cat food and then I escorted him around the flat for his nightly prowl. We seem to have reached a level of understanding, Punky and I. I have been trained well.

S.