Student from 30 years ago (I think — I lose count after two decades these days…) was going away to visit his parents, so I offered to cat sit.
He’s a fussy eater (the cat, not the student). He eats only half of the generous portion of dry pellets put down by an owner who loves him to bits, leaving the rest to shrivel up.
Well, dry food is dry food, in my opinion, whatever size it is, so on my watch, I decided to put down a small handful and mix the uneaten pellets in, so that no food gets wasted. I also told him that he was lucky to have food and a roof over his head, unlike lots of human beings in other parts of the world.
Owner Kevin had to go away again a fortnight ago, so I was asked to go and cat sit a second time. Kevin said he’d told the cat, “Behave, or you’ll be turned into a blog.”
It makes me feel like a witch (“Behave, or you’ll be turned into a frog”), which must’ve been how some of my students saw me (or still do...).
Had the cat been complaining to Kevin about me ticking him off the first time about his fussy eating…?
PS: Maybe Kevin said, "Behave, or you’ll be turned into a frog", and I’d misheard him...
(London, 2025)
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