She bitches when I get home, and yowls if I make any sidetrips from the front door to the kitchen to feed her immediately, but after eating a bit of her food right away, she's fine. The weekends are fun because she likes to push back the feeding from the 24 hour interval I like to keep it at--when she decides she wants her food and meowing doesn't get it, then she'll jump on top of whatever flat surface is nearest to me and starts pushing things off of said surface. A few minutes of that, and I'm usually scooping food for her (yes, she has me trained very well!).

Kathy, I don't know if you give her wet or dry food, but I'd highly suggest free-feeding of dry. There are recommended amounts on the bags, and just...steel yourself against the whines. I figured out MK gets about 1/2 c/ day, but honestly, I just fill up the bowl when it is empty.

The wet food is a spoonful at shot times, so really, not necessary. But, oh, the whining! You'd think they never eat.

Bottom line: cats manipulate.

hunh. I didn't eat dinner. tummy is growly now.

EAT IT! Dinner now, silly.

Oh, I had an interesting cultural thing earlier -- I went into the deli across the street, and was randomly wandering, so the deli guy was like, "what's up?" I said I wasn't sure what I felt like, and he asked if I wanted sweet or sour.

Buffistas keep invading cass's dreams.

I have to pack for my overnight. And I need to eat. Dunno what to do!

eggs and bacon, I think.

She gets just the half cup of dry in the evenings, and occasionally on the weekends I'll give her some Friskies chicken treats (which she's not always wild about--maybe half the time I end up tossing out the cold chicken bits). I have given her the water from tuna a few times, and she likes that, but I've never given her wet cat food.

She doesn't show much interest in human food, either, except for the one time I brought home White Fence Farm chicken, (which was strange because she's never been interested in Brown's chicken!), and she also likes the packaging when I bring home single slices of cheesecake from the store, but that might be the plastic instead of the cheesecake (she has a thing for chewing plastic; she loves to gnaw on six-pack rings).

My behaviour in Cass's dream is much more exciting than mine is in mine. I wake up thinking "Have I really been to the neurologist? Why was he dressed like that? And why did I have company?"

where has tommyrot gone?