This rant contains lashings of neglect, and sad eyes,…but it’s not what you think. So read on…this is narrated by our darling cat, Indy. Take it away, Indy…(did she say takeaways?)

There’s a bit of action in the kitchen – the crockpot is turned on, and there is a tray of meat on the kitchen bench, so I take my position. I sit in the middle of the kitchen, as obvious as hell, in the way, of course, that’s my whole point. But they walk around me. What is wrong with my hoomans?? They have got new glasses, so why are they not seeing me? There’s only so much I can take.

I reposition myself. Right in front of the kitchen floor now, so they have to notice me. They are walking around me now. For goodness sake!

They talk softly and lovingly to me, words like: move. So as I can see my many furry-facial expressions are not working today; I’ve tried ‘pissed off’, I love you, I need comfort food, I’m going to scratch if I don’t get my way…, but none are proving effective. So I lift myself off the floor from my dramatic pose of desperation – lying on my back with my feet up – otherwise known as dead flies, or ants… I think…yuk…how disgusting….and walk with as much dignity as I can muster and plonk myself dramatically on one of the chairs on the front porch. If they want it when they have lunch, they will have to sit somewhere else. My house – my rules.

I didn’t get any nice little morsels of meat from the meal prep, but that’s just one meal rotation…they will be back to do something else before the day is done. I will try again to work my magic and score a treat. The moral of this rant…never give up!

Thanks for reading

I’d like cat Mums and Dads to drop a line/treat/both to say you’ve read my inaugural rant. I want to make some new friends!