I have a jar that sits on my bed side table. Its the moggies treat jar. I have it filled with all sorts kitty delights. The jar is glass with a metal closure, it looks like something you’d see in your italian grandmother’s kitchen holding pasta. . . .
No matter how quiet I try to be when I open the treat jar, the slightest ‘clink’ of the metal there is a scurry and scamper of 12 little pussy cat paws as they dart across the hard wood, in an attempt to be the first one at my feet for a treat.
Even if all I am doing is tidying the bedroom, one false tap the moggie crew comes running. . .. .
Its actually very cute.
If I come home at a weird time, and the moggies aren’t lined up to greet me at the door, often I go grab the jar and give it shake, its sort of like roll-call.
All three of them art at my feet right now, eyeing the treat jar. I’m off, must play with the cats. . . . .