They say dogs are by nature flock animals, and when a flock leader is recognized he (or she) is the the sovereign ruler who decides who gets to eat: when, where, and how much.
I tried to explain that to Mr. Meow as I was making some grilled chicken for lunch today. Simply put, I am the flock leader, and I will decide if he gets a taste of my yummy cacao-chili spiced chicken. Just like Cesar I showed my dominance by expanding my posture, exuding calm yet powerful energy, and placing myself between him and the prey-filet noisily basking in a skillet on the stove.
In response I got a verbal lashing in cat-tongue that is still ringing in my ears. I couldn't make out the words, but I am sure it included enough obscenities to make a sailor blush.
Anyone know a decent cat-whisperer?
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