I popped the lid on the can of tuna and drained the little bit of water inside. Carefully, I pried the fish out of the can, trying to keep the tines of the fork from scraping the metal. I hate that. 4d4k6o
A large cat threw his weight against the backs of my legs and I had to grab the counter to keep from falling. “Hi Freddie,” I said.
He purred and rubbed against my legs again, this time slightly less aggressively, since he had my attention.
“Did you need something?” I wondered, innocently, as I got the last of the fish out of the can and into a bowl.
A gentle reminder of how we do things: 🐱🐶🐦
- Do not troll the diary. If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul.
- Please do share pics of your fur kids! If you have health/behavior issues with your pets, feel free to bring it to the community.
- Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Birds... are birds! Peeps are people.
- Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. If you’re having “issues” with another Kossack, keep it “out there.” This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly.
- There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated. If we alert you to it, please that we do have phobic peeps who react strongly to them. If you keep posting banned pics...well then...the Tigress will have to take matters in hand. Or, paw.
"Humaaaaaaan,” he whined, bumping his head against the cabinet door.
“Take it easy,” I told him, looking down at him. “I like that head. You should take care of that head.”
He met my eyes and his face was so hopeful I couldn’t tease him any more. I picked a chunk of tuna out of the bowl and turned toward his dish. He trotted happily behind me, practically shoving me out of the way to get to the fish I dropped on top of the food he had only made a token effort to eat.
He gobbled down the tuna and kept eating, finally having his actual dinner.
“Huh,” I said. “That’s how I can get you to eat?”
He ignored me, too focused on his meal.
Since it got too warm to cook, I’ve been eating a lot of tuna for dinner. Especially since I found it at Trader Joe’s for like $2 a can. I like it simple; tuna and mayo only, the tuna broken up into a mince by the back of a fork and coated in the mayo. One slice of bread, toasted, my favorite being the dark sweet wheat I get for free at work, the tuna salad spread over the warm bread. One can gives me two meals so it’s pretty cheap too. It also helps that I’m the kind of person who can eat the same thing over and over and still enjoy it.
I wish Freddie were more like me sometimes.
Despite the occasional lies I’ve told in this here column, Freddie was never that excited about tuna. He’d eat it when offered, which for him means he does like it. But he never had a problem walking away from it, either, meaning it’s pretty safe to feed it to him without him becoming one of those cats who won’t eat anything else.
His tastes have been changing lately, however.
Lately, he wants nothing more than the tuna on my plate.
Freddie jumped up onto the couch as I sat down. I set my plate on the armrest on the opposite side from him, not being foolish enough to give him access. “You just ate,” I said, crossing my legs and picking up the remote.
“That smells so good,” he said, staring hard at my dinner.
“You just had some,” I said, choosing a movie I’ve seen already. I’m the same with movies as I am with food.
“I should have more,” he insisted.
I took a bite, feeling a little uncomfortable with how hard he was staring at me while I did it. Sighing, I set my tuna toast back on the plate. “If I give you some, will you let me eat the rest in peace?” I asked.
“Of course!” he chirped.
Not really believing him, I pinched a little tuna salad between two fingers and held it out to him. He ate it immediately and licked all the mayo off my fingers for good measure.
Wiping my fingers off on a napkin, I looked hard at him. “You’ll settle down and let me eat?” I demanded.
He sat, obediently.
I didn’t quite trust it, but I picked up my dinner anyway.
“That sure was good,” he said, as if to himself.
“Mm-hmm,” I said, watching the movie and eating.
“I really did enjoy that,” he continued.
“I know,” I agreed, about halfway finished. I took another big bite.
“Tuna is so good, especially people tuna with milk.”
I frowned at him. “Milk?” I asked around a mouthful.
“The creamy stuff you put in the tuna. The milk.”
I swallowed. “Mayo,” I said. “Eggs whipped with oil.”
“I like eggs!” he said, straightening.
I was down to the last few bites when Freddie pawed my arm. “No,” I said, moving my toast to my left hand so he couldn’t knock it out of my hold.
“Human, share,” he demanded.
I shook my head. “You said you'd leave me alone if I gave you some.”
“I will!”
I laughed. “I already gave you some! Now lie down and be good!”
I watched in shock as Freddie boldly climbed onto my lap and attempted to take a bite of the food in my hand. I quickly shoved the remainder in my mouth.
He gaped at me. “You didn’t give me some!”
“Yes, I did,” I said. It was muffled by the mouthful of tuna and bread. “Twice!”
I swallowed and opened my mouth. “All gone!” I said.
Freddie turned and walked to the edge of the couch, muttering. He jumped down and left the room.
“I thought you wanted to hang out!” I called after him. “It’s almost like you were using me for my tuna!”
He didn’t answer my accusation, not even hesitating in his retreat from the room.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” I said. “When I eat the rest.”
Happy Caturday, Peeps! It’s true that I’ve exaggerated Freddie’s love of tuna in the past, but recently it’s become true. He’s a tuna fiend!
