My Cat's Jealous Of My Paws

... I mean, hands.

He's anxious to get his food in the morning. The way he judges time is by my movements. So if I go downstairs an hour early, he thinks it's time to eat. But sometimes I need to go downstairs to get something. I hate to do it because I know he'll appear, ready for food. "Not time yet, sorry."

Then when it is time, downstairs I go. He reappears, and of course this time it is time to eat. I open the pantry, get the bag of dry food and get a can of wet. I pour the dry. I open the can and scoop it into a dish. Then it's all set in place.

How much better it'd be from his point of view if he could only open the pantry, get the dry, pour it, get the wet, open it, scoop it, and set it in place! But he can't do any of that. He'd starve, not a happy thought.

It makes me feel very able, though. There I am ... lord of thought and deeds ... able to open cat food and serve it. I not only can think through the process, what it'd take to accomplish it, I'm also able perfectly to follow through on my intentions and get the job done. It's strictly 1-2-3, but I treasure my great ability to do things 1-2-3. As smart as the cat is, he can't do this.

Of course there's things the cat can do that I can't. But in this particular blog post I just want to mention the things I can do that he can't.