Little Feet likes to help. Especially in the kitchen, and as we are eating dinner in the living room.

This past weekend, I fixed a nice roast, with gravy and sauteed mushrooms. As we were sitting down to eat, Little Feet waltzes on by, and drags his tail in my plate (I usually sit on the floor - probably because I'm an old hippy), getting a nice glob of gravy on his tail.

Well, Little Feet turns around and faces me, while he cleans off his tail and purrs.

"You know, this is quite good gravy," he tells me, "and if you don't want gravy with cat hair in it, I'll be more than happy to finish your off."

"Say, does that roast have fur too?" he says, as he pokes his nose into my plate, "I'll probably have to eat that too."

So he sits next to me, nose almost in my plate, and proceeds to sweettalk me out of several bites of roast with gravy.

Presto is pretty smart. He knows that I won't give something to Little Feet without giving him a share as well, so he just sits back and looks at me as if to say "Well....? You gave him some."

Copyright © Mark Edwards
February 4, 2000