A couple of mornings ago, my girlfriend, Val, and I got up a little bit later than we probably should have. Val was first out the door to work, and called up the stairs to say goodbye before heading out. I was only a few seconds behind her. So close behind, in fact, that I heard her lock the door behind her as she left.
Val was in a rush and I typically feed our cat, Darla, anyway, so I went to check on Darla’s food bowl. Darla was already there.
She looked at me expectantly, as if reminding me that it was time for her to eat. There were only a couple of bits of kitty kibble sitting in a mostly empty bowl. That’s pretty normal. She doesn’t always eat every piece of kibble.
I measured out her morning portion and put it in the bowl. Darla waddled closer to her bowl. She looked at me again. This time she seemed to say “thank you.” But in that short moment, she made a grievous mistake. She licked her chops.
One of the little things I learned about Darla in my time with her is that she only licks her chops after she has eaten. I called Val to determine whether Darla had, in fact, been fed. She had. In the few seconds between Val feeding her and me checking on her bowl, Darla managed to scarf down her entire breakfast.
You almost got away with it, Darla.