When I get home, Bella is on the kitchen counter standing next to her food bowl. She meows once to let me know that she is hungry and a second time to remind me that I’m late feeding her.
I quickly remove the can from the bag and say, “You’re in for a real treat, sweetie.”
Bella rubs her head against my arm as I open the can and scoop a generous portion into her bowl. I expect her to attack and devour the food in a show of appreciation, but I forget that I’m dealing with a cat, not a dog.
Bella bends down to sniff the food, and then she looks up at me as I stand there with a big grin across my face. She stoops down again to give the food another whiff, then stands upright and settles back on her hind legs.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, disappointed at her reaction.
She stares at me with an odd expression on her face and I imagine that if she could speak she would probably say, “Do you honestly expect me to eat this shit?”
My feelings are hurt for a second, and I hear myself say, “What’s the matter girl? Are you trying to tell me that I just wasted two bucks on this new food I bought you?”
Rather than meow and acknowledge the truth in my statement, she stands up, turns her rear end towards the bowl, and makes a clawing motion with her right front paw against the kitchen counter in a feeble attempt to bury the contents of her food bowl.
My brief moment of anger turns into hysterical laughter, as I watch her jump off the counter and head towards her litter box.
I shake my head and say, “Sooo….tell me what you really think?”