Desi has this weird thing where she’s blocked off spaces in the house for specific things. If she’s on the stairs, you cannot pet her. She’ll let me pick her up and hold her without complaint if we are in my bedroom. In the living room, it’s an unforgivable assault on her dignity if I try it. We have a smallish sectional in front of our tv. She has decided that when she sits in front of the small end of the sectional, she is to be given treats.
Specifically that spot.
Only that spot.
I’ve tried to give her treats while sitting at the other end of the couch. She will walk over, delicately take the offered treat from my hand, then walk back to her spot and sit back down. She will not walk over for a second.
She will not accept petting as a substitute.
She will shake off your hand if you try it, step out of your reach until you give up and lean back, and then walk back to her spot and sit back down. Expectant. Polite! But expectant.
She will sit there anytime she wants treats.
Even if no one is in the room.
You know how this works, but as always, a gentle reminder:
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Freddie, on the other hand, wants nothing to do with treats. He will smell them and then walk away, convinced that that thing you are holding out to him has nothing to do with anything he would want to put in his mouth.
No. He wants what you are eating. It doesn’t matter if it’s a tuna sandwich or an orange, he’s sure he wants it. Even two seconds after you let him smell it and determine he doesn’t want it. He’s sure that was just a mistake.
In other words, my sweet boy is a shameless beggar.
On my days off I like to hit the grocery store and pick up a container of sushi for lunch. All the grocery stores around here have a sushi chef on the premises now. It’s kind of weird trend, I guess, but I will take advantage of it for as long as it continues. I like to run my errands and stop there last to get lunch. Sometimes I’ll also get a little container of pre-cut fruit to go with it. I bring that home, get out my sparkly chopsticks (so sparkly!), my soy sauce dish, and have a nice meal by myself in my kitchen.
Did I say by myself? Because, OK, never by myself. There’s always a Freddie on the chair next to me. He knows what it means when I sit there in the middle of the day. He likes the grocery store sushi chef trend too.
“Hi!” Freddie chirped, jumping up onto the chair.
“Hey, Freddie,” I said, opening the packet of soy sauce, trying hard not to let it squirt everywhere.
“Whatcha got there?”
I shook my head. “You know what I’ve got.” I used one chopstick to scoop some wasabi up and mix it into the soy sauce.
He made a low humming noise in the back of his throat. “It looks pretty good,” he told me.
“Yeah,” I agreed, moving on to open the fruit container.
He was quiet for a minute, watching me finish arranging my lunch. I was ignoring him as hard as I could.
I picked up the first piece of sushi and dipped it carefully into the soy sauce. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him lean forward.
“Is that tuna?” he asked, his voice unnaturally loud.
“It was,” I said, my mouth full.
“’cause I like tuna!”
“I know.”
He put his paws on the table and lifted himself up. I immediately blocked his progress with my arm. “You are not allowed on the kitchen table, Mister,” I told him firmly, looking at him squarely for the first time.
He lowered himself slowly back to the chair. “I know. I just wanted to see what you have better. It looks very interesting to me and I wasn’t able to see it good from here.”
“Interesting, huh?”
“Yeah. Interesting.”
I turned back to my meal. We sat silently for a few minutes while I ate and he watched, occasionally rubbing his head against my arm.
“So,” he said eventually. “Did you buy anything else while you were out?”
“Yep,” I told him. “No more fish, though.”
“Ah.”
I chewed while he fidgeted, watching me with the intensity of a diamond cutting laser.
I could feel his stare burn into the side of my face.
I sighed. “OK. You get one bite, and that’s it.”
“OK!” he agreed eagerly.
I set my chopsticks down and with my fingers tore off a piece of salmon. I checked it carefully for anything that might hurt him — sometimes they put a little wasabi between the fish and the rice — and turned to give it to him.
He pushed his way onto my lap and nipped it from my fingers before I could even offer it to him. Prize acquired, he hopped back to his chair and greedily chomped it down.
I picked up my chopsticks and continued my meal.
“That was pretty good,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” I told him, dryly.
“Haha, yeah. Thanks. So, what else you got?”
I gave him the side eye. “Nothing for you.”
He gave a feline chuckle that sounded forced. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I was just curious.”
“Uh huh,” I said, determined to ignore him.
He pawed my arm.
“Cut it out,” I told him, getting annoyed.
“Just a little more?”
“No.”
He was quiet, but the laser stare was back.
“No,” I said again.
He huffed in frustration.
I was almost done now. It was good sushi, and the fruit was nice and sweet. I was enjoying myself despite the pest sitting next to me.
He bit my elbow, hard.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, pulling away from him.
“You’re almost done!” He said, getting upset.
I exhaled. “Don’t bite me,” I said.
“I would like to bite some fish,” he shot back, “but you are hogging it all.”
I shook my head, but set down the chopsticks. He stood up in his chair, excited again. “I’m such a damn pushover,” I muttered.
Once again, he nipped the fish out of my hand, grazing my fingers with his teeth. While he was busy with that, I finished my lunch. He turned back to me.
“All gone,” I told him, holding my hands up.
“Ok,” he said, jumped down from the chair and trotted out of the kitchen.
“You’re welcome!” I called after him again. This time I didn’t get a thank you — not even a grudging one. I cleaned up and walked out of the kitchen.
Desi sat on the floor in front of the couch. She looked up at me as I entered. “I’ve been sitting here since you got home,” she told me, indignant. “And you haven’t given me a single treat.”
I rolled my eyes and picked up the treat bag, ever the sucker.
Despite all of my arguing that everyone would be better served by paying me to stay at home and not work, they didn’t go for it and I have to work. But I’ll be back tonight to read and reply. Happy Caturday, everyone!