"Molzie, 'ol pal, alls I kin say is, if it ain't good enuff fur People, it fur dang shure ain't good enuff fur us!"
The little Beggar (yes, with a capital 'B'), the wee fake!!
Now tap water is not good enough for him, and he dares bring me into the argument!
The latest Gonzo affectation began two weeks ago. People is verrrrrry careful to ensure our food and water bowls are full before she leaves for her Hunting Place
(Where, dare I say it, she has managed to retain her place, gain a slight promotion and raise, and best of all, regain her enthusiasim. Yippee, a bit more green papers so that she can bring me, er, us, prezzies!)
And she is also very attentive to our plaintive mewlings as she fumbles with the jingly-janglys to unlatch the door; she comes straight in and fills our bowls before she does anything more than put down her Hunting Bag. (She calls it a purse. Whatever.)
She is thick, but not so dim she missed the dry water dish.
Hmph! Dry because Brat, er, Gonzo had been tipping it over...
"HEY! I was gonna drink that!!"
Not to mention I DO NOT LIKE WET PAWS that I have not chosen for myself. Water is fun when I, Mozart want it. Otherwise, I, Mozart, DO NOT LIKE WET PAWS!!
"Get over it, hit the leaking tap. People drinks water outta the special water bowl, the strangely shaped one that has a top so I can't get in it even when I tip it over. It must be very special, because she trades green papers for it. So, we should have it too."
"People drinks bottled water because the pipes out here are old and made of lead which is bad and can make People very sick, and...ya know Gonzie, I think you're onto something. But must you tip out the water bowl?? My paws get all wet. Besides, do you think she will figure it out BEFORE I DIE OF THIRST??"
People really can be a bit thick sometimes.
I am not sure which of us is the more smug. I because I knew the 'strangely shaped water bowl with a cap' is a bloody bottle. Or Brat, er, Gonzo, who now thinks he is a genius because People only needed three Mozart & Gonzo water bowl tip-outs to figure out Gonzo wants bottled water.
To be honest, she only really got it because Gonzo caught on that he should splash it out in front of her if he really wanted to get her attention-she'd been thinking one of us had kitty diabetes and she was planning a trip to the V.E.T.-YIKESSS!
The third time worked, he tipped out the bowl in front of her horrified eyes just after she'd refilled it from the kitchen tap.
"Bloody HELL Gonzo! What are you...NO! STOP! GONZO! Dammit. What do you want, bloody bottled water?" And she poured us a bowl full straight from her bottle.
Which Gonzo immediately drank with obvious appreciation; I joined in with equal gusto-drinking as though I'd just come in from the Sahara.
Which caused People to laugh and say, "Oh alright, I guess if it isn't right for me to drink out of these taps, you two shouldn't be drinking from the taps either."
OK, so now we are enjoying much nicer water. Much nicer. Frankly, dear readers, the tap water here smells like the extra stuff People puts in the washing machine with the towels (she calls it bleach, we call it bleacck!) and some other wrong kinda smells I can't identify.
And LOL, no, ROFLOL, think that just a year and a half ago I didn't know what the water bowl was! I can dimly recall my sense of wonder that People had a special bowl of water for me-no more drinking from mud puddles and worse. Ah, how far one comes, when one is loved!
She had a thing on the kitchen tap called a filter, but the water still tasted funny, so I guess the Brat, er, Gonzo, has a good reason for his smugness-I, Mozart would likely never have thought of it on my own. But we are after all her entire reason for breathing, and therefore deserve the best of the best.
Enough about the Brat. Much more about I, Mozart, who can communicate realities to People with more subtle and graceful means. For Example:
People likes to give Kitty Flying Lessons if I try to remind her of the Important Realities (empty bowl, nasty litter box, my lack of new toys and total attention...), particularly if it happens to be the wee hours of the morning.
I, Mozart, at nearly 13 lovely (and all muscle, too) pounds, do not like Kitty Flying Lessons. Additionally and most importantly, I am wounded to the core when she refuses my reminders.
So thrice I have slipped past her as she comes in from The Hunting Place and punished her by being 'away' for hours.
How truly lovely it was to hear her plaintive calls into the cold and misty nights as I huddled under the porch in true sacrifice to teach her a lesson.
Well, the third time I did let her catch me right away because I slipped out into sleet-AAAAACK!
And the third time she got it-"Oh Mozart, you know, I think you try to run away when I've been cross with you waking me up two hours before the alarm!"
No, ya think? Sheez.
To be sure, I tested her, and sure enough, even groggy with sleep People got it-"Oh Moat, you poor thing, is your bowl empty?" But dang it, she just gave me a hug and tried to get me to lie down as she scratched behind my ears until I gave up and jumped down. At least the Kitty Flying Lessons have stopped. If Bast meant for us to fly we would be birds. Ohhh, fluttery things:)
But the minute the alarm when off, I was right back in her face...and she thanked me! Big hug, nice scritchings, then, ahhhhhhhhhhh, a nice fresh full bowl of the nicest organic kibble and reverse osmosis bottled water.
IN IS BETTER:)
OK, one last thing, our little Gonzo (who really is small, six pounds, tops) is now 13 months old. His one year First In Day is swift approaching, too, the 19th of December.
Nubis was really looking out for both of us, me and Gonzo. Bast should be very proud of her appointed Guardian of the abandoned, homeless, and orphaned. I love my little fur Brat, er, Gonzo, and am glad he is here. As I truly believe Nubis led me to People, so I, Mozart, believe he led our little Gonzo to People and me.