Torture by Kitten

Oliver was totally out to get me this morning. I left the house at quarter after seven and he was standing in the path next to our house waiting for me. I said, "Hello, little man, how are you?" This is a regular conversation starter for us. He put his head down and ran at top speed towards and then past me. I followed him to the street where he threw himself to the sidewalk and began to brazenly expose his soft wonderful kitten belly in a pretty shameless display. Clearly, he wanted me to stay home. Clearly, his need for me is greater than that of the File Factory. But I could not stay. I have an early meeting this morning and a mortgage that needs to be paid. So I sadly rubbed his belly once, then once more and told him, "Oh, little dude, I am so sorry but I must go." He followed me halfway down the block and then stood in the middle of the street and watched me walk away. Is this how it feels to take your kid to their first day of kindergarten? This hollow spot where my heart used to be? He'll turn away from me tonight, I know it. He'll move in with the new neighbors and shower his love upon them. Oh, the fickle love of Cousin Oliver the cat, I have squandered it. Foolishly, foolishly squandered.

Thank goodness I have a secret weapon. Duck chunks in gravy! They win his love back every time!