That chicken smells divine, but I would never stoop to begging like an undignified Woofie.
I am commanding a choice morsel to land before me through the powers of my Feline mind.
Or one can just use Puppy Eyes and remind Human Daddy who his real bestfriend is.
Why are you making me wait to nosh on my cookies until they’ve cooled down, Human Mommy?
They smell so good and I’m ever so hungry…
I promise I won’t burn my tongue!
Please share, Human Daddy, aka Top Chef.
–Cosmo and Xena
You Humans call it “begging.”
We call it “ordering.”
–Luna, Stella, and Cosmo
Humans, don’t feel obliged to boil that lovely chicken on my account. Just remove the plastic and place the bird on the floor. I’ll serve myself–no problem.
Dinnertime is upon us, Humans.
May we assume that you have planned an appropriately meaty menu for us?
–Quicksilver and Charlie
We Cats are the Head Chefs in our households.
You Humans can rise no higher than the rank of Sous Chef, at best.
No garlic, no onions, no seasonings at all, save a dash of sea salt to our taste, not yours.
The Human palate is not sufficiently refined to judge seasonings.
On second thought, don’t bother with the cooking.
Present our food raw but at room temperature.
A Great Chef lets the meat sing for itself.
Not sure what to make for dinner? Look to birds… er… nature for inspiration.
–Amber and Quicksilver