la_samtyr | Just For The Record

My furkids have me well-trained. Even though I am not very bright (we humans are such an inferior species, though we do have *thumbs*, our main gift), I am capable of learning. Slowly perhaps, but I do learn.

Case in point: I keep a small bowl of dry kibble on the desk for my oldest gal, Lucky. a few days ago, while playing a game of "chase-and-leap-across-the-desk-and-laptop", the bowl, which had just been filled, was knocked to the carpet. After cleaning it up, I decided that the idea of a bowl of kibble on my computer desk was not one of my best ideas, so I didn't put a fresh one back. Instead, I decided to not keep a bowl on the desk anymore.

Lucky didn't agree.

She sat on the desk, staring at the empty spot for some time as if expecting her bowl of kibble to rematerialze at any time. It didn't. Then she tried alternating staring at the empty spot and glaring at me. Still no success. Clearly, sterner measures were called for. So she began grooming herself. Lick, lick, lick -- we must remove all loose fur in order to look our best.

Did I say grooming? How silly. No, not 'just' grooming but pulling tiny mats of fur out of her coat and spitting them on the keyboard (fortunately covered by plastic).

Yes, that's right. She didn't just spit those teeny little bits of fur randomly, oh no. She deliberately targeted the keyboard itself, as opposed to the floor or the desk.

Lesson learned. The kibble bowl has been replaced. The grooming once again takes place *off* of the desk.