Casey actingCasey threw himself onto the floor in front of my desk.  I carried on typing furiously because I had a deadline to reach and amateur dramatics from a feline was not going to stop me.  There was a big sigh.  It was one minute past the time he should have had his dinner.  He knew he was not long for this world and cranked up the death scene a notch.  If this was to be his last moment on this planet, then he would go out in a blaze of glory.  If not quite that, then at least with a huge sigh, a sly glance in my direction to see if I had noticed he was on his last legs and another rearrangement of his body.  He wanted to look good for his final farewell.

Gibbs came into the room and sniffed Casey.  “He’s not quite dead yet, Mum, although if dinner isn’t served in the next three seconds, I think we’ll lose him.  Can I have his portion as well?” 

“No one is dying on my watch, Gibbs,” I said, still typing furiously.  Just another 500 words to go and I’d be done for this particular project.

There was another massive sigh and a huffy meow.  “He’s alive!” shrieked Gibbs, jumping on Casey, triggering off a bitter battle for four and a half seconds.

“Now, now, boys, less of the fisticuffs.  Mum will get dinner shortly.”

Ignoring me they carried on hissing and spitting at each other.  Deciding that it was all getting too dirty for my liking, I saved my document, switched off the computer, and hurried downstairs.

Realising I’d left the scene, they overtook me on the stairs and waited for me in the kitchen.  I got clean bowls, a cat fork and opened up a sachet of food each, forking it over to mash the lumps out.  I put the bowls down on the floor and made myself a coffee.

“Works every time, doesn’t it, Gibbs?”

“Like a dream, Casey, like a dream.”

“One of these days, she’ll catch on, Gibbs, then we’ll have to change our tactics.  You’ll have to be the one dying of starvation.”

“And the Oscar for Best Feline Dying of Starvation goes to ‘Gibbs’.”

Dogs Come when Called

"Dogs come when called. Cats take a message and get back to you."

"Of course, every cat is really the most beautiful woman in the room."

Edward Verrall Luca (essayist)

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