This is shameful. I know I’m being manipulated by my cats, and yet they succeed in manipulating me anyway. Neither of them has yet jumped onto my head while I’m brushing my teeth, but they do try to stop me writing.
Meow. Meow. Meow. It’s like the water torture. Robbie is agitating for cat food. I say, “Do you think I don’t know how full of it you are? Do you think I don’t know that as soon as I serve up the food, you’ll walk away and let Peep eat it all, so you can keep on bugging me?” Meow, she explained.
Except at mealtime, Robbie totally dominates Peep. Then the food is put out, and she turns into the incredible shrinking violet. All right, this time Peep didn’t eat it all, so now Robbie’s having some.
*Sigh* Back to work. If they’ll let me.