|Friskies at last!|
I'm first. Mr Woof can wait his turn.
I have just been through a very great trauma.
Last night, Mum served my stinky fish, and Mr Woof's doggy meat, and she topped up the Friskies dish. That's all right. Then she said, "Oh, we've run out of Friskies."
I looked up at her in horror. We're out of Friskies! What kind of negligence was that? How could she have failed to plan ahead for a potential Friskies shortage? It's almost storm season, we're supposed to be prepared for disaster - and there's no disaster as great as a Friskies shortage.
"It's OK," she said. "The groceries are being delivered first thing in the morning. You'll have Friskies for breakfast."
That was such a relief.
But when I woke up this morning.... there were no Friskies in my dish.
Mum said the grocery delivery hadn't come yet.
She put cream in my dish and told me that should hold body and soul together until the Friskies arrived.
The cream was good, but there were still no Friskies when I'd finished it.
"They'll be here before ten o'clock." Mum said.
I can't really tell time, but that sounded like a very long time. I could starve to death in that time, I was sure of it.
I went outside for some sun, and to roll around a bit.
Eventually, the grocery delivery man arrived. Mum unpacked the Friskies as soon as the bag with them was in the house, and she filled the Friskies dish.
There was a line-up by then.
I got first feed of Friskies. They're my Friskies. But Mr Woof was right there waiting for his turn. He'd been anxious to get them as well.
Now that the crisis has been averted, I feel much better.
I checked the grocery bags - Mum bought a spare pack as well, so we don't run out again.
Until next time we meet in the Bloggosphere,
Supreme Feline Overlord.