I’m starting to believe at least one of the kids is more interested in seeing our cat, Tweetie, than in spending wholesome, quality time with me. Call me paranoid, but…
1. Gary handed Dove, who is 4, the phone recently while I was at home and he and the kids were out. One of Dove’s first questions was, “How is Tweetie?” Even though I assured her he is doing fine, she said firmly, “I want to talk to him.” Tweetie was power-napping under the desk, but I crawled under the desk and held the phone to Tweetie’s ear so he could “talk”. His end of the conversation consisted largely of sniffing my phone, head-butting it to claim it as his, then purring loudly into the mouthpiece once he was content the phone was now sufficiently marked as his. Dove was pleased to hear him sniffing, snorting, and purring, and she seemed content that I was taking acceptable care of Tweetie in her absence.
2. As soon as I got home from work yesterday, everyone rushed up to say hello to me, but as soon as Dove gave me a hug, she pointed to Tweetie and explained to me, “He’s hungry.”
3. Periodically, Dove marches up to me with a strict, stern expression and informs me, “Tweetie needs treats” with a look that lets me know she is highly disappointed she had to point this out to me.
4. After Tweetie gave Dove multiple “kisses” (his gentle little head-butts on the forehead), but refused to give me any, Dove shrugged like this was to be expected and said casually, “Oh, that’s because he likes me better.”
Hmmm. The evidence speaks for itself, eh? Tweetie is now the most spoiled cat in the world, and I have been trumped by a furball!