This morning I was fixing an omelette for breakfast.

Little Feet had already taken his place atop the refrigerator, and as usual, I petted and skritched him while I waited for the omelette to cook.

At one point, I stopped long enough to put bread in the toaster, then came back and skritched his ears some more.

Again, I stopped, poured some juice, and took my vitamins, then went back to Little Feet. I turned around long enough to look at the skillet, and Little Feet grabbed by hand with both paws, claws out (youch!), and pulled my hand towards his head.

Every attempt to shift position was met with a clawed paw pulling my hand towards him.

Finally, Little Feet looked around me, towards the skillet, sat up straight, let my hand go, and meowed at me.

It was obviously time to check on my omelette, which was just thickened up enough to add the ham and the cheese. Hmmm, he's a chef too...

Copyright © Mark Edwards
May 4, 2002