Every cat we have owned served as valets for found one or more methods to announce it is, in his or her opinion, meal time. All the boys meow.
- Emily had the hop on Katherine's desk,
- Whitey has the current evening desk visit duty and the morning (occasional) death from above,
- Billy has the cavalry charge downstairs to dinner, along with supervising in the kitchen looking very interested in whatever is being prepared for any species,
- Oscar has the cavalry charge upstairs, and has recently developed the morning visit to me in bed, which turns into a gentle request to cuddle him.
But none of these match the show Oscar puts on if he thinks he has your attention in the upstairs hall. It starts with his happy trot into the library where he's fed. If you appear to follow, his routine morphs into a full twirl with a purring chirp, and climaxes in an ecstatic cat rolling on the floor as he awaits feeding.
Unfortunately, he can't tell time worth beans. He'll do this before breakfast, an hour after breakfast, and basically all through the day. It gets him petted, but not fed.
Sorry, kid.
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