We have two cats. The gigantic one, Chumba, is a fine yellow-coated lazy fellow. He mostly lays on the bed and purrs.
Kate, the small and stripy girl, is busier - she likes to get on everyones laps and inspect things, and she plays with the kids.
But they're both very nice cats.
Except when the kitty bowls are empty.
I woke this morning to a 'rowr!' and a baleful glare from Chumba, who was perched on my chest like the ghost from Dickens. He was not happy. There were only crumbs in the bowl.
Luckily, there was a spare can of soft food in the cupboard, (although I knew that would not appease them for long) so I escaped unscathed.
However, Bear slept in this morning. He just 'phoned - apparently the cats have both been pawing at him while he was in bed and conversing in hushed cat undertones. He has the distinct impression they're deciding which part of him would be tenderest.
He called to see if we needed anything else, as he's headed for the store.
His Momma raised no fools.