Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Feeding My Charges: a story in three acts

As you might remember, I'm currently living in palatial splendour (relatively speaking) at Mel's house while she and her family are on holiday in Cuba. My only "chore" is to feed Ramone and Whitey, Melly's cats. Here's how it usually goes down...

Act I: The penetrating stares. Allow me to translate.
Whitey: It's dinner time. You know, time to feed us?

Ramone: For crying out loud, woman, do you need us to draw you a map? We're sitting right underneath the cat food cupboard. What the Hell is wrong with you?

Act II: My decision not to drop everything and dole out the grub immediately leads to serious tension in the ranks. The fur flies (on this particular evening -- literally).

Act III: Piggy caves and delivers the goods. All is quiet save for the sound of slurping and crunching. Dinner is a two-course affair chez Melly: first the wet, then the crunchies.

The beasts have been tamed. Until the morning.


  1. You never hear about anyone ever going to Cuba here in the US. We're not alowed to go there being the Capitalistic pigs. I wish I were old enough to have gone in the hay days of the 50's.

    Good luck with the animals...

  2. Too cute......Congratulations on becoming bilingual English/Cat.