Another Year

6Well, here I am, another year older. Six I am told. I wonder how many that is in human years. My caretaker was gone all day (“work” he said, and “go play outside” I was told in the morning, before I was rudely shoved out the door). About time he finally showed up this evening. Things started to look up from there though: first, I received a, in my opinion, rather well proportioned piece of sliced turkey. It was very palatable I must admit. However, (and here I must protest in no uncertain terms) I was forced to wear this ridiculous “birthday hat” once more for the amusement of my caretaker. I tried my best to take it off, but that proved to be to no avail. I did notice the candle and more importantly, the can of tuna fish below it though, much to my delight. I vaguely recall a similar looking can last year. Once again I had to listen to singing though, before said can was finally opened. Oh the things one puts up with.

Sincerely,

Calvin

Picky, picky, picky

Occasionally I have lunch at a nearby Japanese restaurant, that has a very reasonably priced and delicious bento box. As I walk towards the entrance, I see one of the chefs and a waitress sitting outside talking to each other. I make my way inside the restaurant and sit down at the counter. I always like to come shortly before lunch closing time, as the restaurant is a bit more quiet then. As I sit down, two women are already sitting at the counter eating their meal, and are talking non-stop. Sigh. But, I’m here, and I’m hungry.

The waitress takes my order, and brings me a glass of ice water with a slice of lemon (my favorite), some chopsticks, and a napkin. The waitress that was outside now comes in, sees me, and says: “Oh, you snuck by me!” She then grabs my chopsticks, stuffs them in the water-glass, and asks if I would like a menu. I’m at a loss for words first, look at her a bit perplexed and reply: “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I already ordered my bento box, and that water was just fine until now”. “Oh my gosh” she blurts out, “I’m so sorry”, “I’ll get you some new water”. I smile, and tell her it’s OK.

My bento box comes, and I start to eat, determined to enjoy it, despite the continuing non stop chatter next to me. A sip of tea, another sip. I notice that the woman next to me has left about four pieces of very appetizing looking sushi on her plate. I contemplate: it looks like they have finished eating, will they leave soon? I weigh having to listen to more chatter, against the prospect of an early departure on my part. Yes! The waitress brings their check, and they finally pay and leave. The waitress turns her attention towards the plate of the departed customer that has the sushi on it, to take it back into the kitchen. I ask her: “May I please have that sushi for my cat”? She tells me: “Sure, sure, let me get you a box”. Patience is rewarded. I then finish my lunch.

Now get this: I come back to my apartment, and serve the fish to Mr. Calvin. And what do I get? An upturned nose, as he sniffs at it, and walks away. “Do you know, what I went through, to get you this?”, I raise my voice. My displeasure is sensed immediately, and a very rapid retreat is made from the kitchen.

Evening update: Apparently someone’s appetite has returned, and the fish was finally eaten. Lucky for you buddy, I was considering withholding canned food, until you do. Other cats would fight over this. Sincerely: the other resident of the apartment.

Have a blessed Sunday and week, and may more than one piece of fish come your way — quietly…