What's for dinner?

One of my favorite things to do is to watch my human mom prepare dinner. Oh, the scents that tantalize me! Chicken! Cheese! and things I cannot name because I am, after all, a cat with a limited knowledge of things culinary.  The best place to observe is the kitchen counter, but for some reason I am banned from that location, so I do the best I can given the situation.  I will add that when I have taken my rightful place on the counter in the past, I have been shooed away in a most agressive manner, resulting in my having to dive bomb to the floor in a most undignified fashion to avoid being shoved off.

Using my handsome head, I nudge a chair away from the kitchen table, turning it so that it faces the counter. Next, I stretch myself up and hang over the back of the chair, which gives me a dynamite view of the goings-on.  I manage to paste a (fake) pitiful expression on my face, one that would make the average person believe that I haven't been fed in months, but strangely, my human mom doesn't fall for it right away.  A few loud meows later, I can usually depend on getting a scrap of something. Victory is mine!  If my human dad is at the counter, I don't even have to do anything, since he recognizes my divine right to sample whatever he's working on.

 

Once it's time for dinner, I jump off the chair and observe until the time is right.  I act innocent, pretending to know "my place" while my mom sets the table.  The innocent act is key and cannot be underestimated. Once the plates are set, it's time to make my move.  I jump onto the table. After all, it IS a family dinner, n'est-ce pas?

It's crucial to my success to makes sure my derrière doesn't actually touch one of the plates by accident, and equally important to make sure that no one is watching. I prefer the element of surprise, which occurs when my mom turns away from the stove to bring the food to the table. I am nothing if not an optimist, totally believing that I will be welcomed to share the meal.

 

I regret to inform you that as of this writing, my record for remaining on the table is only 3 seconds. I am immediately forced to vacate the area, and in what can only be described as the most insulting act I have ever observed,  the place settings are removed, put into the dishwasher, and new settings are placed on the table.  What?? Do I have leprosy?  Bubonic plague?

 

 It is made clear that I am expected to loll on the floor while my human parents dine together. I ought to walk away and sulk, but the prospect of having a tidbit tossed to me is too strong to ignore, so I stay and put on the cat act... yeah, I'll pretend I'm " just a cat" and play into this game of lying on the floor watching you guys eat, yadayadayada!  But both they and I know that once the meal is done, there will be a tidbit toss!

 

 

Yes, I WILL be the winner!