A note from Oliver:
Last night, my Girl and The Boy said they were ready for bed. So obviously I thought they were going to feed me so I got really excited. I started giving them suggestions for which flavor to open. But they got lost and went up the stairs instead of to my food bowl.
I followed them upstairs, reminding them about dinner.
They said I’ve never gotten dinner ever in my life. Unfair.
The Girl and I watch lots of television (the stupid glowy screen, not the good stuff on OutTV) so I knew just what to do: I went on a hungry strike.
When The Girl called me to the bed to snuggle, I didn’t go. I stomped around the bed in a big circle, ducking under the headboard to complete the circle. And I chanted. Feed the kittehs! Pets only for hands that feed us!
Obi sat on the foot of the bed and watched me circle. He didn’t join in. He wouldn’t ever get to eat if I wasn’t constantly reminding The Girl to feed us.
The Girl set her book down and I could tell she wanted to negotiate so I went to face her down. She leaned close to the edge of the bed. She looked me straight in the eye. “I will feed you in the morning.”
Success! Having won the talks and gotten promises of meals to come, I declared the hungry strike over. We celebrated the quick and successful conclusion of the conflict with a snuggle.
It’s better than a handshake.