My cat thinks he's a dog. When I eat, he puts his feet on my knee and looks at me like a dog. All hopeful and pleading.
"Don't beg," I say. "You're a CAT. Cats don't beg."
He doesn't listen but continues to give me the soulful look.
"Cats rule the world," I lecture. "They tell everyone else what to do. They do
not beg."
My admonishing doesn't stop his begging. If I don't give in, my guy does.
And when I feed him and his sister, he wolfs his food down like a you-know-who (which means he's liable to throw it up like dogs do). Then he rushes over to push his sister back from her dish. She pushes back but it's useless. She may be queen of the house, but when it comes to food, the boy cat is immovable.
"You aren't a dog," I tell him. "Cats are finicky eaters. You need to take lessons from your sister."
She smirks at him, but he doesn't care. He's too busy cleaning her plate because while she was daintily eating half of hers, he has swallowed his food whole.
I'm wondering if a cat psychiatrist could help. Maybe it's a lack of self-esteem?
