I woke this morning to the insistent complaint of my new mistress. “Food!” she demanded, and I staggered out of bed. Blearily I made my way into a room with two full plates of food. I looked at it, looked at her, returned to bed. Half an hour.
“FOOD,” she demanded again, face thrust into mine, pulling me from dreams.
I changed old for new and gave her medicine and a small amount of treats. That’s what she really wanted. Then we had obligatory call to strokings. I cut out a deep buried knot. She purred. Still though she ignored the food. The food. The food.
The rain came. I put in my contact lenses. I shut the idea of the door. Observed by the cat, I very seriously began a day of playing Baldur’s Gate 2 alternated with reading chapters from my latest Robin Hobb trilogy and stroking the cat. That sort of a day is normally reserved for some guy over six foot tall with a motorbike, a pizza habit and a “hilarious” T-shirt highlighting happy moobs. I’ve got the beard for it. I rarely let myself have a full on nerd day. It was delightful. Still, even when I cooked and ate my easy cheesy lunch, she did not munch as I hoped she would.
She’s behaving normally. She’s just not eating. I’m hoping that tonight she will go for it. I’ll find out at 5am, no doubt.
Meanwhile it’s lovely to be in Brighton, even if I only had a wee break in the rain at about 4pm to go and hit the beach and take in the summer. It is not predictably pleasant weather right now. Lou has been at a festival and I’m glad not to have to sleep in a tent right now. Way too damp.
I’m enjoying being the cat slave. I’ve enjoyed being irresponsible and childish today. Before long I’ll have to step up again, but for now, sometimes, days like this are perfectly allowable.
AlBarclay 