Out of chow for the cat this morning. I am greeted by the sound of an undernourished cat bellowing for food. I go to the kitchen, maybe I have a can of tuna or something. No tuna.

So here's the scene from the kitchen with me turning my head back and forth from the cabinet to the cat in my bedroom doorway.

me: "I got some stovetop stuffing?"

her: "mow" (no) and just so you know she sounds a lot like gangster character actor Edward G. Robinson ....Mow SHEE, Mow. We're gonna rub ya out shee. Mow.)

me: "How about some green beans?"

her: "mow." (no)

me: "Crisco?"

her:"MOW!"

me:"corn?"

her: (agitated scowl)

me:"ok, corn is a no....eh how about soooooooome dehydrated potatoes?"

her: (reaching for broken beer bottle)

me: "Alright I'll take that as a no. Oh, here's some salmon. I hate salmon, you can have this.)

So I open the can which results in all kinds of frantic "mowing" as the cat goes bat-shit over the smell. I put some in her bowl.

me: "how's that?"

her: ::::Making sound like buzzsaw going through sequoia tree::::

me: "Want a napkin?"

her: "mowgglglarngal....BRRRRRAAAAAA!"