For close to a year now, I have not followed my morning routine. Specifically, I haven't eaten my usual morning mueslix cereal. I've been on a DIET, which means Mr. Hammy has been on said diet, too. Not very happily, I might add.
If you know anything about cats, you know they are creatures of habit. They thrive on routine. They know where every object is supposed to be in their house. They make a daily sweep of their domain to be sure everything is where it should be. They know when you will be leaving and when you are coming home and when you are going to go to bed.
And they know when to get up and run downstairs and look cute so they can get the cereal bowl with a smidgen of milk in the bottom. So now you can see why Hammy hasn't come to sit with me much in the morning for the last year, unless he happens to be hanging out in the den where I eat breakfast, and then, of course, he'll be there and may climb in my lap, even if there isn't any milk.
Recently, I've started back with my morning cereal routine. Yes, this means the diet worked and I am much more at my battle weight now.
The most curious thing happened on the FIRST--YES--VERY FIRST, morning I clinked a spoon in the bottom of the cereal bowl while I went to grab the cereal box and milk jug.
Hammy appeared as if by magic, from points unknown, and started rubbing my legs in anticipation. Then he ran into the den and jumped up on the black, leather cube where I used to set the bowl when I was done. I hadn't even poured my cup of coffee yet, and there he was, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready for a treat!
Someone once told me a cat has a memory of about 5 seconds and if you are going to spritz him with water to keep him off the Christmas tree, you'd better do it before 5 seconds has passed, or he won't know why he's suddenly wet.
Now, I'm thinking they must be wrong about this because the last time Hammy got milk in the bottom of my cereal bowl was last winter. But there he was, eagerly anticipating the reinstatement of his favorite morning routine!
He got the bowl, of course.
1 comment:
if they're anything like dogs, they have short memories for the things we want them to remember, and looooooooong memories for food. anything food-related.
once boscoe scored a glazed doughnut (i am not kidding) that was lying in the grass at the end of our block.
for years--years, i tell you--we could not pass that spot without him leaping into the grass and searching hopefully for another doughnut.
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