For The Cat Lover In You

Max and My Pot Pie

“Max! Get away from there! And what are you doing on the counter? You know better than that.”

“Meooow.”

“No, not now, not ever. That pot pie is my dinner tonight. And you’ve already been fed.”

“Meooow.”

“No, Max! Not now. How many times to I have to say it. No!”

“MEOOOW!”

“Scream at me all you want, I don’t care. The answer is still no. Now let me get you off the counter and back on the floor.

“There. Uh-oh, you think rubbing yourself against my leg is gonna soften me up, do you? Not happening, Max. Me and Mrs. Fields pies go back a long way, and - Max! Get off the counter and get away from that ...

“Max! MAX! Oh, come on, Max, why did you have to go and do that! That was a perfectly good chicken pot pie and you ruined it. You knocked it right into your food dish and ... wait a minute! You did that on purpose, you little sneak.

“What am I gonna do with you, Max. I swear, you are more trouble than you are worth sometimes. You drive me crazy and you don’t even have a car!”

“Meooow?”

“Now you’re asking me? That’s funny. Go ahead, you might as well, Max. I can’t bake it in the condition it’s in now.

“Ya know, you can be a real pain in the ass at times, but I still love you. Now, get off the counter and go eat my dinner.”

“Meow?”

“Yes, now, before I change my mind.”

Looking in the cupboard, I see Charlie the Tuna on the can. Guess if he can eat my dinner, I can eat his.

Now.