Mate and the Cat

Steve the Cat has run inside for her nighttime feeding just as Mate is leaving the refrigerator with a bag of grapes.

Steve: You see that? That’s my food bowl. It’s empty.

Mate: You see that? Those are grapes. I can eat those because I have opposable thumbs.

Steve: Who gives a shit about opposable thumbs?

Mate: You do, you dumb motherfucker. You can’t eat without them.

Steve: I can too. I can catch birds. Mice. Whatever. You just love me too much to let me suffer. *cough cough* Bird bones. In the throat. It would be bad.

Mate: I’m not buying it.

Steve: Just shut up and go get my food.

Me: Heh heh heh– It’s so sexy when you taunt the cat.

Mate: It is not.

Steve: He’s a neanderthal. Leave him. I shall give you all the love you need.

Me: It’s sexier when you feed the cat.

Mate: Whatever. I’ll feed her.

Steve: See? I own you.

Mate: This isn’t over cat. And I bet you wish you could eat grapes.

Seriously– Mate’s just giddy because on Friday he was pulling a U-turn and he thought he left his transmission behind him on the street.  Turned out, it was just the axel. So he’ll coddle the cat and play with the dogs, and even be kind to me with my damned obsession with The Killing because it wasn’t the damned transmission.

But I’m saying.

Fucking Volvo.

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