Max is doing the pawing of my stuff on the side table. I’m forced to get up. Then he walks very slowing in front of me as I work my way to the bathroom. He does this over the shoulder glance to keep track of where I’m going. I give him a cat appropriate sideways foot butt in the butt with a sharp, “move!”
Might be time for treats. I grab the the plastic jar. I toss a single, tiny crumb across the room. He runs to find the tasty bite. He is not perfect at this game. He needs to see where it lands. He is not very patient to use scent location. And I wonder what the condition of the underside of the kitchen stove will be like one day. No barrier of protection if I miss throw in that direction. I do enjoy his sliding on the wood floor when he negotiates his approach to the door and finding his crumb.
I feel like an ungrateful custodian and companion, but the truth is he’s a little bit dumb. Perhaps the high volume of unfound crumbs will be a surprise find later. For both me and him.
And then time later, the treats merely made the hacking a hairball possible. Clean up to Aisle one.
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