When Barbeque is on the Line

I find it amusing when my cat starts imitating me in order to gain brownie points. Usually there is food involved. Ever since I had eye surgery to repair a torn retina in 2013 I have been prone to squinting my left eye, which doesn’t produce tears as well as it used to, so it stays a lot less comfortable than my right eye.  Today as I sat down to eat my lunch, Smokie hovered near my chair restlessly circling me like a hungry shark. But Kitty chose a different tactic. He hopped into the chair across from me, careful not to put a paw on the table—breaking the rules would harm his chances of scoring a tasty bit of Bodacious barbeque—where he simply made eye contact. Squinty eye to squinty eye, he watched me eat my sandwich.

Back in 2013 when Kitty was honing his food-begging skills. This was before my eye surgery, so he hadn't added the squint yet.

His expression seemed to say, “Oh favorite human, if I have found favor in your squinty eye, may I please have a bit of smoked chicken? Look at us! We have so much in common: we squeeze our eyes the same, we both love tasty food, and we both have better manners than Smokie…could I perhaps have a scrap of sausage?”

Whap!

Smokie leapt from the floor in a spiraling leap, not unlike a mako breaching the water, to attack Kitty’s tail. Kitty looked down his nose at the kitten on the floor. His expression was a classic feline glare where the bigger the eyes, the more angry he was. Not a hint of the single-eye-squeeze was left. Smokie licked his chops and swished his tail as he continued to prowl around the table legs. Kitty got back to the matter at hand. The squint returned. I continued eating my sandwich. Kitty leaned forward, right eye squeezed nearly shut. (He never squints the left eye; he wants to channel all the sympathy in as straight a line as possible to me.) Kitty shuffled a few inches forward on the chair and craned his neck. I sighed and looked at what was left between the pieces of bread. Kitty sniffed and risked a glance at the food.

 I was pretty much full, so I pulled out a slice of sausage and tore it in two for the hungry vultures. Kitty, knew victory was imminent, and he hopped down from the chair and waited by the food bowl. As soon as the meat hit the bottom, the single-eye-squint evaporated and he swooped in. But Kitty is not only a good negotiator, he is also well versed in the game of keep away. Although Smoke had galloped around to the bowl and swiped it out from under Kitty’s face, the wily old cat had already claimed the prize. I have watched this scenario play out almost daily, so I waited for Smokie to grab the bowl before I put his portion in it. Then I was able to finish the rest of my food in peace. No shark attacks around my ankles and no more beggars seated across from me.