The Crankee Yankee and I own (actually, we are owned BY) five cats. Three of them came to us as “house cats;” the other two; Scooter and Julian, were outdoor cats. Of course, even though the cats know each other, there are occasional howls and dust-ups. Each cat has their own food dish, we feed them morning, noon and night.
New to the food dishes are Scooter and Julian. Having been on their own for so long, when it’s time to eat they can get a bit aggressive. It’s because they were used to eating when and where they could find food, and sometimes they were forced to go hungry. But they are finally realizing that they don’t have to fight for food. In fact, they now know when it’s time for them to get fed; they actually line up in a gentlemanly fashion (well, for our one female; a lady-like fashion).
There are a few cats in our neighborhood who show up for food. We don’t know if they belong to someone or if they are strays. But we don’t mind; our house mantra these days is “come one, come all; we feed ’em all.”
Cats are by no means tupid. They know a good thing when they see (and eat) it. In the early morning (which by the way is here) I go out to our back yard and put out the day’s food.
And yes, if you are wondering, the Crankee Yankee and I are pushovers. It’s a good thing that we don’t live in South Africa, and having meercats and such showing up for breakfast.
Yep, we are idiots. But we are happy idiots!