I am in the "dog house"

Mindi is rather put out with me.

First off, she does NOT like being on a "diet". Not that I blame her. But I'm inordinately fond of the silly little critter, so I'm trying to keep her healthy as long as I can.

This causes an early-morning PITA, however. Since the cats chew my computer cords, they're no longer allowed into the bedroom under any circumstances. So in the morning, one or both of them begin bodyslamming themselves up against the bedroom door demanding breakfast.

Meh. They get fed right before I leave for work every morning, they KNOW this - or they freaking SHOULD know this, as it's been the case for several years - but the heartrending maowwwwwww-ing of starving cat is my morningsong every day.

This morning I was a bit ahead of schedule (HUH???? THIS NEVER HAPPENS!!) and so I fed the whiney ones and grabbed the bowl for water and dumped out the old and refilled with cold fresh water. Came back to put the water bowl down and Mindi the Fatass has her brisket parked right where the water dish goes.

"MOVE, Mindi"
"Stupid - get out of the way!" *small shove with foot*
*Push with free hand*

Nope. She wasn't going anywhere.

So I watered her.

I stuck my fingers into the water bowl and dribbled water on her back until she moved. Took THREE waterings to get her to move!! Mindi was Not Happy©.

I am, therefore, in the dog house. Oh well. Move over Rover.

90 days