I’m not sticking my tongue out at you; I’m sticking my tongue out at my “mummy”.
I’m once again very upset with her. It all started yesterday when she got two packages with chocolate and goodies from a dear friend from overseas.
I’ve seen stamps and labels with cats on the packages so I thought they were for me (I know this dear friend loves me more than she loves my mummy) so I tried to open them.
Oh boy, did she jump shouting that I’m not allowed chocolate? I wasn’t going to eat chocolate but I wanted to see what else was in there. She hid everything away.
I went to sleep very, very sad! Today I’ve seen her boiling eggs and dipping them in red liquid dye. They came out quite bright red and shiny and I thought this was the perfect time to play and have some fun. So I jumped up on a chair and started pushing them one by one over the table. Whoa! You should have seen her face staring at me in disbelief!
Of course she overreacted as she always does. She said the eggs were for Easter and turned her back to me. So I stuck my tongue out at her (as you can see in the photo how mad and upset I was). Now what? Should I talk to her again?
Should I crack eggs with her on Sunday? George, do you think I misbehaved?
Happy Easter to all
Ninety nine percent of the time humans are plain wrong. But for once your human was in the right. We cats shouldn't eat chocolate. It contains theobromine which is poisonous. It's even more poisonous for us than for dogs. Luckily, unless it comes in ice cream or chocolate sauce, we are less likely to eat it in the first place.
Greedy dogs sometimes swallow down a whole box of chocolate and need veterinary treatment urgently.The more expensive the chocolate, the more cocoa there will be in it, and therefore the most theobromine.
Hard boiled eggs are a different matter. Personally I like a little egg - maybe just a little lick of the plate after breakfast eggs. My predecessor Fat Ada used to eat them raw, biting into the egg carton, cracking them with her teeth and licking up the yoke. She had learned this when she lived on the street, breaking into houses through the cat flap and burgling their kitchens.
You did nothing wrong. You communicated your natural feelings to your human. She was mean minded enough to ignore them. I suggest sulking all through today (Easter Saturday), then lots of love and purring at the moment the painted eggs are cracked at Easter. It might work.
PS. I am intrigued by your reading matter. High Society - about cats on roof tops, no doubt - speaks for itself. But why are you reading about dogs?