Chicken Tonight.

cat ~ [Kat]/n. Dog with an attitude problem.



My how things have changed around here! Remember those kittens we brought home? The ones who hid wedged in the deepest, darkest corners under the couch, at the back of the bed, in the cupboards? Yes, those kittens. The ones who bolted upstairs if a parrot squawked, or the postman knocked & definitely on Sunday mornings when everyone arrived for church. The very same kittens. We haven't changed cats but the cats have changed.



Yes, I know they're waxing sleek & fat. I'm not discussing their ever expanding girth or the way they carry their tails like a yard~arm pennant waving merrily in a rising breeze. This is a quite different breed of cat. These are the cats who get up in the morning & realise it's Sunday. Sunday is chicken day. Sundays they hurtle downstairs like 2 furry cannon balls & watch me like a hawk until I rummage for the car keys & head for the door. Instead of rushing outside to join me they rush to the end window from whence they can watch with great anticipation for my return because on Sundays when I depart to procure the Sunday paper & the salad makings I bring home hot roasted chicken. The smell proceeds me down the path so that by the time I arrive in my kitchen the cats are frantic with anticipation. Chicken, chicken, chicken tonight!



Now I hate breaking apart a chook. Totally gross. And greasy. Slimy even. Oh, & catty. I give that lovely job to Ditz & Ditz gets mobbed. Ditz gets the furballs under her feet, twining through her ankles, sinking anxious claws into her flesh. She gets the demanding meows, & the small impatient bodies launching into space in the vain hope they can get to the chicken before Ditz gets to them. Ditz yells, I snicker, the cats go frantic but Ditz collects a small portion of scraps that she doles out judiciously to the best behaved puss in turn.



Marlow is a chook fanatic. He adores a nice juicy piece of chicken. Fed, the cats slink away before our guest arrive ~ or they were. Things have changed. Yesterday as our friends arrived the cats rushed out to greet them, lifting small pointy chins to be rubbed, ears scratched, backs stroked. They hurtled round the room in a frenzy of delight showing off abysmally, displaying every cute catty trick they know & all their well known charms. They delighted in being the centre of attention & having welcomed our guests settled down to listen to the scripture & chat until it was time to makes the rounds at lunch to procure further tid~bits. Our friends are sweet & knowing our cats put a little extra chicken on their plates, nicely shredded, to tempt shy puss' their way. The kittens weren't shy! They begged, they cajoled, they bribed. They're spoilt. Oh, yes they are. And they're just too cute for words.