If cats could talk….
Setting the scene: I am sitting at the dining room table eating a snack. Ginger is circling me like a calico shark, trying to figure out how to get to the food. Cats on the table is Not Allowed.
Ginger: “Me? I’m not on the table. I’m stretching myself up as high as I can and then sliding my paw towards your food. So yes, my paw is on the table, but I am not, so I’m not breaking the rule. You know this because I am doing it right next to you.”
Me: “No paws on the table.”
Ginger: “Maybe if I go around to your other side and do the same thing, you will think differently.”
Me: “Get down.”
Ginger: “Life is not fair.”
(P.S. Ginger has been missing since June. I miss her.)