Glass Act

Sleek and glossy black, Mister and Lady were easy to tell apart because Lady was always the first on scene when I catered mealtimes. And that was a problem for her everlastingly shy brother. Both cats loved wet food and if Mister didn’t put himself out there, his sister would lap it all up.

Photo: Renata Fuchsová/Pinterest. Subjects resemble Mister & Lady in every respect.

But the modestly-sized kitchen was closed on three sides with nowhere to hide. And the cats’ feeding area stretched down the middle, separating kitchen appliances on one side from the pantry/laundry center on the other. In the middle of the room was a steel step can flanked by a row of clear glass bowls. Each cat had four bowls holding measured amounts of wet food, two different brands of kibble and an individual serving of fresh water. Mister’s fear of outsiders kept him away from the kitchen, far enough to feel safe but close enough to feign indifference as he watched Lady race to the bottom of her wet food serving before moving on to his. To resolve Mister’s dilemma, the bowls of wet food were not served until I was on my way out the door.

Kitchen kink

During an ordinary visit on an ordinary day, Lady was waiting somewhere outside the kitchen until the food was served, while Mister’s internal clock was counting down to my departure. The bowls had been washed and I was towel drying the last when it slipped from my damp fingers. I reached for it and for one miraculous second, the bowl steadied on my fingertips before tipping toward the floor. Even more surprising, my fumbling fingers managed to keep the bowl on a curving trajectory until it landed with a clank on the lid of the metal trash can. Still in one piece!

I reached for the bowl feeling jubilant . In the same moment, the lid — pressed down by the bowl’s hard landing — bobbed up, sliding the bowl over the edge. It hit the floor, disintegrating into a zillion tiny shards. The timeline from slippery fingers to smashed bowl took several seconds; cleanup required a few thousand more.

No felines were hurt. But my little drama sent Mister into hiding for two days.

Postscript

Over the years I cared for Mister and Lady at two different addresses. The first was the site of the glass bowl story. We have to assume the second home was much more to Mister’s liking because he stopped soiling outside of his litter box (yay!) and the second kitchen was large, open at both ends with a long table on one side that Mister used as a shelter while he and Lady enjoyed their wet food. Lady was always first at mealtime, but if I stayed on the opposite side of the room with my back turned, Mister could brave my presence in the kitchen. Happiness all around.