I Wish I Was Like You. Easily Amused.

Now, here is another blog post in which I talk about my cats...Again.

The other morning Heidi came running into my bedroom meowing loudly (we like to call it her Defcon 5 meow). She seemed insistent for my love and affection and I felt so good that she loved me that much. I went into the kitchen to make breakfast and she followed me in there meowing and jumping up on chairs, staring at me expectantly. Then I remembered that I fed them turkey as a treat the same time, the morning before and she didn't really love me that much at all. She really just loved it that I fed her turkey...

Today Archie was whining for food so much that I pretended that he killed me with his annoying whining and acted like I died on the bed. I thought if he knew how dramatically he affected me, that he would feel guilty and finally shut-up. He looked me for a second and then got distracted by what he thought might be a flying bug outside of the room and he left me pretend dead on my bed.

The moral to my stories is that cats will never love me as much as I love them and they were apparently not raised Catholic as I was, and will never feel guilt.