Ah, the pleasures of domesticity. Putting clothes in closets. Hanging pictures. Crossing the Hudson River to find a pet supply store that carries Hill’s Science Diet for Tink and Zeugma.
It was one of those deals where I bought two ridiculously huge bags so I wouldn’t have to make the trip again for a while, and as a bonus they gave me a coupon and a couple teeny-tiny cans of soft food too. So the girls were good tonight, non-whiny and no hisses or fits, and I opened up one of the teeny-tiny cans and split it between them.
Tink showed me why she’s the one who barfs. Head down, in the bowl, non-stop until it’s gone. Like she’s in a race. We’re talking uninterrupted sound of chewing and swallowing here; food intake like a gas-powered Troy-Bilt wood chipper. Non-stop gurgitation.
Across the kitchen, Zeugma sniffs the food, licks it, chews it a bit, tries a paw, looks around, takes another couple bites.
Tink: chomp chomp chomp. Chomp chomp chomp chomp chomp.
And that’s the way it is generally. Zeugma’s shy and fastidious; Tink has a habit of using the box and not stopping to brush the litter over it with her paw. Zeugma gives me the stare; Tink yawps and yowls.
My own little feline id and superego.
I laughed out loud at the chomp chomp chomps. Belly’s like Zeugma–it’s a good thing there’s not another dog in the house cuz that dog would get two helpings every feeding. Belly just leaves it out and eats a bit here and there. Treats, though, treats are a different story.
Ah, cats and their eating habits. Gabe gets so worked up when I open up a can of cat food (or even seem to be about to open up a can) that he practically hyperventilates. Seriously: you can hear him. I love this picture of Tink and Zeugma. So cat-like, in two different cat-ways.