He now likes to sit in the kitchen sink. He just sort of hangs out in there, watches me pitter around in the kitchen and occasionally contorts his neck 180 degrees to have a drink from the faucet. It would be much easier if he'd just turn around and face the faucet, but that would make sense. So instead he does it his way.
Wrigley is not really sure what to make of all of this, so he checks up on him from time to time. "Maybe Chumley wants a bath?" He asks me innocently.
"No. I don't think so." I tell him. But I do think he'd like a gentle scratch on the head from his Dad.
See? Chumley can be sweet. As a reward for good (although odd) behavior, I cook him up a nice batch of hot broccoli. One of his favorites. Ummm Mmmm, scrumptious.
About a half hour later it's off to the litter box he goes. Just as soon as he's finished Tom pleads with me to please stop feeding the cat broccoli. I tell him ok, no more broccoli. Chumley and I share a wink and a laugh, then he saunters back into the kitchen to sample some more goodies....
No comments:
Post a Comment