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Caturday Pootie Diary: The big chicken [1]
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Date: 2022-11-19
"I think caramel apple,” I mused, “and then either pumpkin or sweet potato.”
Freddie yawned wide, showing all the teeth in his mouth.
“Sweet potato might taste better,” I continued, “but pumpkin is a little easier and I have to work the day before Thanksgiving so easier is probably better.”
He sat up. “Are people coming here?” he demanded.
My hand quickly shot out to pet him reassuringly. “Nope, not this year. We’re going to someone else’s house.”
“WE?!”
“Just the humans!” I clarified.
He relaxed.
“This is the food holiday, right?” he asked, curling his tail around his body in a show of calm contentment.
“They’re all kinda food holidays, if they aren’t, like, fasting holidays,” I said, “but yeah, this one’s about having a big meal.”
“So you’re leaving me home alone,” he pointed out.
“Ah...yes.”
“And you’re going somewhere to eat yummy food.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, a little wary.
“You’re going to eat without me while I sit home alone probably with an empty kibble bowl.”
“It won’t be empty!”
“It’s empty right now,” he said, unnaturally calm.
I stood and walked into the kitchen and over to his food mat. I could hear him jump off the couch and follow me.
I turned to him and pointed down at his very much not empty dish, my eyebrow raised.
“Well since you’re here, you should probably top it off.”
I left him happily munching away and shaking my head, returned to the couch. Picking up my phone, I started looking at recipes. Freddie cronch cronching away in the kitchen made for some rather nauseating background music.
The couch dipped as he rejoined me. He immediately set about cleaning his face and paws.
“I suppose it’s empty again?”
“You can refill it later,” he said between long licks of the back of his paw. “I just ate.”
“Why, thank you,” I said, dryly.
“I think I’m going to go with pumpkin,” I told the top of his head. He was being thorough with his grooming.
He suddenly stopped and looked up at me. “Is this the holiday with the giant rotisserie chicken?”
“The turkey? Yes.”
“And you're going without me?!”
“You don’t like to leave the house!”
“I don’t want to go! I just want the big chicken!”
“So you want us to have the party here?”
“No!”
“I’m not sure how to make you happy here.”
“Just give me the big chicken.”
We stared at each other. “...no…,” I said, slowly.
He nipped my arm.
“Hey!” I said, rubbing the sore spot.
“I think rotisserie chicken has made you mean,” I said, watching him carefully.
“It’s just sooooo gooooood,” he said.
“It makes you misbehave.”
“It makes me hungry!”
I reached out carefully to pet him. He flattened his ears to give me access so I decided he was calmer. “Turkey isn’t the same as chicken. You might not even like it. It’s not worth getting so worked up.”
“I bet it is worth it,” he purred.
“How about this? I’ll bring you home some turkey.”
He gasped. “Promise?”
“Yep! Gravy too. You’ll like gravy.”
“I’ll like gravy,” he agreed.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! And happy early Thanksgiving! I’m not sure why Freddie always ends up being a brat in these stories — he really is the sweetest boy.
[END]
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