Adventures in KatLandia

​Lots of authors have cats. Others have dogs. Me? I have a single rescue feline named Dali who has her very own quirks. A couple of examples:

Me: (still in bed not really ready to jump into my day)

Kat: sticks nose into bedroom, notes me and then trots off.

Husband: “I’m leaving for work now.”

After a kiss and a wish that he have a good day I settle back under the covers, savoring the peace and quiet.

Garage door up. Garage door down.

One minute. ONE minute after he leaves there is the heartrending yowl from downstairs. Since you probably don’t speak fluent cat allow me to translate:

OMG! The human has left the house. There is nooooo one here.  I am alone! Someone will break in and… steal my food!  I will starve. I will dry up into a little husk. OMG I can feel the hunger pains now…

You get the picture. One horrendous yowl is all it takes. Now I have to get up. When I walk downstairs she blinks at me like, “Oh. You again.”

Then there is the food dish drama. For a rescue cat Dali is damned picky and likes a particular kind of food, of which there are three flavors. Her fave is the salmon cat food. Except when it isn’t….

Fussy Feline Take Two (or why you will never win in a battle of wills with your cat):
Dali (Day 1-3): OMG, I LOVE this salmon stuff you feed me. It is SO good. Nom, nom, nom.
Day 4: Ugh. No way. Gag. What is this crap? Are you trying to poison me?
Day 5-7: OH! Salmon! OMG, you never feed me this stuff and you know I love it. How can you be so cruel?

And so it goes. At least she doesn’t wear red leather and carry a whip anymore.

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