Let’s see. How do I say this without sounding like a twittering looney?
My cats love me. They really really do.
There has always been a long standing argument in our house whether the cats love us or that they’ll love anyone with half a can of tuna.
All doubts were laid to rest last week. While we were away, we had the cat-sitter come over. We armed her with cans of tuna and a basket of new, exciting toys. And being the experienced cat-sitter that she is, she brought her own yummy goodness in the form of the Royal Canin kibble which even the fussy pot (yes, I’m talking about you Moof@) couldn’t resist.
Now, if we were to assume that our cats, being cats, are self-centered creatures then it wouldn’t have mattered that we were missing for over 3 days. After all, they were in the comfort of their own home, lazed around in their own beds, had their favourite toys and were never hungry.
Boy were we wrong. When we first walked into the kitchen, they had this look “OMG. Is it them? Have they really returned?” and this was followed by purring and whining and kneading for TWO WHOLE DAYS after. Moof@ kept following us around with this urgent , high-pitched whiny meow to be picked up and cuddled and Flyb@ll who has never been a lap cat, buried his big furry head into my lap and took a nap.
So it’s true. My cats do love me.
Next up, I’m going to try to prove that Flyb@ll sings along during our neighbour’s karaoke sessions.