The Breakfast Tortie

Today was turkey quesadilla day for breakfast, or so I thought. Having coffee and a small food in front of the computer is a grand way to start my day. So as usual,  I carried  my repast into my room, set it on the side table and began the ritual of preparing for computering.  Then my daughter called and I jabbered with her for awhile, popping my vitamins between swallows of coffee and perfunctory “uh-huhs” into the phone. Turnng to my plate to grab a small bite of sustenance, I notice: no quesadilla. What ho! Where is my turkey?

There she is… skulking out the door is the resident tortie-thief with my breakfast in her mouth! I yell, I call her name, but alas, she has gone deaf! I am yodeling, my daughter is hysterical and the turkey-nabber is nowhere to be found. Eventually, my kid and I wrap up our phone call. I follow the trail of raggedy tortilla remnants into the parlor where the cat is curled into a soft snuggly circle, having ingested a tasty, protein meal. I say: Ok, you little cat-burglar! Where’s the meat? I bend my head to hers and she purrs contentedly, as if to infer: “A delicious morsel, eh? Good of you to be distracted.”

She continues her snoozing and I paddle back to my bedroom to have my coffee. In comes the second tortie, a little older, wider and slower. She sits insistently at my feet, looking up with moist eyes, inquiring: “Ya got anymore of those turkey tacos?” I pick her up, hold her, rock her and pet her. She pulls away, glares at me, shoots her tail straight up like a whip in the air and marches out of the room. She is showing me that she’s been deeply insulted and consequently, I’ll be snubbed for an hour or two. Torties have high standards and particular rules of intereaction, which I, as a fallible humon, often fail miserably to reach. And there’s no more turkey in the refrigerator. I’m in for it now.

They will forget this little interchange in awhile, though I am racked with guilt…. and will probably open up a can of tuna for lunch. I was never any good at being alpha-dominant, even with my own species. Life with cats ~ precious, funny and wonderful.

Here’s a photo of the scoundrel. She’s mostly black with a light tortie pattern and a white chin. She’s sitting in my computer chair enjoying some early morning sun.

Any animal stories out there?  Best wishes….. Whisel*