Thursday, February 13, 2014

Tird's Day 7: Hungry

                              Read the prologue to my Thursday, "Tird's Day" posts here.
                                                          
                                                                  Tird's Day 7: Hungry

We brought the carrier into the apartment and set it on the floor with much anticipation. We opened the door and watched the feline slowly emerge and check out his new surroundings. As much as we tried to allow him his space to explore and acclimate, we hovered like the new parents we were, not wanting to miss a single move he made.

While I don't remember much else about that day, I definitely remember the night. During the day I'm sure we over nurtured Cowboy, walked him to his food and water bowl, and showed him where his litter box was, but the day was relatively calm and uneventful (other than the fact we had a new and exciting pet!). The night came and we made sure Cowboy had food and water, and we watched as the newest member of the family settled in for the night. The roommate and I followed suit, and crept off to our respective bedrooms secretly wishing that the new pet would choose us over the other to bunk with. 

Somewhere in the middle of the night I awoke to a loud crash and instantly panicked believing the apartment was being burglarized. Obviously my roommate heard the strange noise too, as we now met up in the hall with much alarm. I don't know if she actually had a baseball bat in hand, but I somehow want to remember her as the "take charge, I'm going to kick your ass" protective co-tenant. Together, we slowly made our way down the hall and found the apartment empty, just as it had been. Still pondering the loud crash, we made our way to the kitchen and quickly found the source.

Around the kitchen corner, the culprit was pigging out. Cowboy, despite having a fresh bowl of food before bed, had decided to create his own "take out" dish. Having jumped onto the top of the refrigerator at some point in the night, he pushed his opened bag of food onto the kitchen floor and decided to eat from the open buffet he created. I'm pretty sure that may have been the first (but not the last) time I uttered the words, "You little Shit!". The verbal scolding of our pet continued, no matter how ineffective it was, and despite it the roommate and myself found ourselves crawling around the floor trying to find and pick up every last piece of fallen kibble. As I grumbled off to bed, the last thought of the day ran through my head, "Must purchase cat-proof food container tomorrow". 

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