Yes you are. Yes you are. My little Doody. Come here. I’ve created a monster in you, yes I have. I didn’t use to give you human food but one day I gave in to your patience as you’d watch me eat. I just couldn’t resist those precious eyes. Then one day I gave you a piece of turkey. Then some shredded cheese on another. Then some salami and other luncheon meats. Popcorn too. I love holding your prize just above your head as you paw at it. Then your head goes back and forth as your eyes follow your prize as I tease you. Oh yes, such joy, and how you love it and just crave it. You get so excited belting out little murmurs of happiness. It used to be every now and then. Now you anticipate it every time, and get it every time, yes I know. I’ve spoiled you even more than you already were. Some of your meows though do sound more like cries and nagging. Yes, I want to squash you then because you’re annoying me, Doody. I know. But I did this. I created this monster. It’ll never stop. I know now. When I say not this time, I still give in. Yes I know. I’ll do anything for my little Doody, ain’t that right. If there was one piece of turkey left in the world, I’d give it to you. Yes. So precious. My little Doody.
Ode to Doody
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I suppose, in a way, we all give food to our doodies, but most people have the common sense not to talk about it.
You’re really going to tell me that Portland isn’t the cat person capitol of the world?? C’mon, Seattle!
That’s what you get for naming your pet “Shit.”