Pumpkin, our 19-year-old cat, doesn't really like canned cat food, but she loves the gravy that floats to the top of the container. In her mind, when the gravy is gone, so's the cat food. So when she wants more, she gets our attention by knocking the can to the ground. The dogs, knowing that there are a lot of chicken and cheese morsels remaining in the can, engage in a textbook Pavlovian response to the sound of the can hitting the kitchen floor. It's usually quite amusing.
Except at 5:08 am. When I'm in bed. Upstairs. In the bedroom with the door closed. With the dogs.
This cat may not make it to 20.
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