It was going to be one of those days. Having a proper dinner schedule just wasn’t in the books, so I didn’t even try. I picked up the local supermarket’s “Chicken Dinner Deal,” and brought it home.
I didn’t even get a chance to put the bag down before Sapphire Samurai woke up, nose gently testing the air. I could see him recognize the smell of fried chicken even half asleep. He was under my feet within seconds, hoping for a handout.
Knowing his predilection for this food and that he would do anything to get it, I swiftly stowed it in the fridge. I don’t know how long he stood staring at the closed refrigerator door before going back to complete his late morning nap. He might mess up his schedule and miss his early afternoon nap, after all.
When it came time to eat, I got the chicken out. I think he heard the refrigerator door open in his sleep and was on his way even before he completely woke up. I tried to distract him with canned cat food, but that didn’t really work. It wasn’t chicken.
Microwaving fried chicken doesn’t appeal to me, so I let it sit for about ten minutes to get some of the chill off. I sat there, four feet from the counter and watched the cat. He would lift his nose into the air and sniff. He followed the scent to the section of counter the chicken was on and prepared to jump.
I’d say “I’m watching,” and he’d turn around and walk back towards me. His expression was injured dignity and a desire to have me put some chicken into his bowl. Neither went over very well. This was repeated the whole time the chicken was out. He sat under my chair while I enjoyed mine, though I did put a bit in his bowl. Fried chicken isn’t really that healthy for man or beast.
Once I was done, I put the bag back in the fridge. He seemed to sigh and went off for his early evening nap. Clearly there was no need for him to remain in the kitchen on the alert. He can’t get the door open by himself.
When my husband arrived, I went back in to fix him a plate. He doesn’t mind if it’s nuked as long as it’s hot. He had a quick repair job to do, so when his plate was loaded, I covered it with a napkin and took it into the living room so he could relax while he ate. I had the same performance in the living room as in the kitchen, and the cat had the same results.
My husband didn’t quite finish his portion, and I was in the middle of another task so I just put the plate on the counter. That would be a miscalculation on my part. About ten minutes later, my husband called me to the kitchen, and there he was, chicken part on the floor, happily munching away. Never underestimate the powers of a cat when it comes to fried chicken…he will find a way.