Two Cats

        I found this older post that I never put up, so I’ll share it with you today.

        Look, I know my Little Watson is a pig. He loves food, he’ll take any extra licks he can get. He’ll deftly sneak in under a friend’s whiskers to get that extra bite. Later, he’ll go after the final few molecules with that efficient tongue, polishing all the bowls. But not tonight. He has known Kitsune, our ‘fox’ cat for over five years now, and has always been willing to slip over and enjoy Kit’s food, so what was different?

            Tonight Kitsune came back from the vet. After a dental cleaning under mild sedation, Kit was extra impaired, staggering with aftermath sleepiness, pupils dilated, drooling down his chin and white ruff.  Nothing to eat for Kit since last midnight, so he was truly ravenous.

            Most days when I feed these two, I sit by to make sure Little Watson doesn’t come in to sneak Kit’s food. Most nights. that’s my job after serving their meals and it’s always Watson who invades the other bowl and has to be removed.

            I looked up after a few minutes tonight, to see a complete reversal. Here we had Kit, who’d bolted down all his own dinner, setting his muzzle deep into Little Watson’s barely half-eaten meal. Astonishing also, because Little usually finishes half a minute ahead of Kit. This time, Little Watson had backed off, and was watching, dare I say wistfully, as Kitsune munched down Watson’s food. There was no confrontation, indeed, if there were any struggle, my money would be on Little Watson, not Kit, to carry the day. Watson’s a powerful, assertive little cat despite his bad left eye.

            I intervened, moving Kit back to his dish, which had a scant trace remaining in it, and returned Little Watson to his. Watson started eating, with zest. Nothing wrong with his appetite. Kit leaned over, took a sideways step and then another, leaned harder, hopeful, …and Little Watson, my glutton, stepped back, like an invitation. Settled down into the cat becomes an egg position to permit his friend to eat. What is a human to do? Well, suspecting that Kit might be sick from overindulgence, I ended up removing Little Watson’s food, and offered it separately to Watson. He ate a little from my hand, but Kit lunged over, wanting more– and yet again, Little Watson backed off as though to say, friend, you need it more. It felt like kindness, it looked like generosity. I’ll call it both.