Last night the People cooked their food out in the back yard—don’t ask me why, that’s just asking for the birds to poop on it—and it smelled really good. I mean really good. But did I get any, even after being very good and patient while they ate? Hell no. All I got was this lame explanation for not sharing : “I don’t think kitties can have pork.”

I don’t know what “pork” is, but it smelled good enough for me to eat, so why not at least let me try it? You let me eat fish and chicken and turkey, why not pork??? They’re all dead things, aren’t they?

On the plus side, the Man did give me treats early in the morning. He felt bad because he kicked me in the ass while trying to walk through the dark. He could have turned a light on, but no…he just wanders through the dark, waiting for a cat ass to kick.

It all worked out. He gave me food, so I wasn’t starving ten minutes after he left the house, and I didn’t have to wake the Woman before she was ready to get up. She was happy, and even came downstairs to feed me the good stuff before she went upstairs to shower.

Still…I wanted that pork last night. And since I didn’t get it, I had to head-butt her awake this morning.

That’s only fair.

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