The resident cat at Mom’s care home is a beautiful bi-color mask and saddle feline that Anne rescued. The residents love Kitty. To say that Kitty is a tad overweight is being kind. She lives to eat. Kitty’s weight tends to be the subject of much of the humor from the residents and staff.
If the staff is in the kitchen, Kitty is right there meowing and pressing against their legs until they can hardly move without tripping over her. She wants a treat, preferably her tuna. If the refrigerator or a cabinet is open, Kitty has her head right in there examining the contents for likely goodies.
One late afternoon, “Grace” was already placed at the dining table in her wheelchair after a trip to the bathroom. It was close enough to dinner time that there was no point in transferring her to her recliner only to have to transfer her back into her wheelchair for dinner. The rest of the residents would be brought over soon.
Anne was finishing preparing dinner with Kitty close on her heels with her every movement. The meowing was piteous. Kitty clearly thought she was starving.
Anne has been trying hard not to feed Kitty so much and eventually raised her voice sternly. “You already ate! I’m not feeding you any more!”
“Okay,” said Grace.
Anne didn’t hear Grace from the kitchen, so I piped up. “Anne, Grace thinks you were talking to her.”
“Oh, my God!” Anne flew out of the kitchen to Grace at the table. “Oh, Grace. I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to Kitty. I’ll feed you. Of course I’ll feed you dinner.”
“Okay,” said Grace. Grace sort of goes with the flow.
I believe that Kitty got her own back that day, making Anne the brunt of the humor. But really, it is Grace that makes it all work.