My calico cat, Molly, jumps up on my lap and immediately becomes hyperfocused on potato chips. Her eyes are the size of dinner plates and they follow each chip from the bag to my mouth. She periodically leans in and peers into the bag. Her breathing is rapid and her whiskers twitching. The anxiety steadily increases.
The left paw comes up and she tries to intercept a chip in transit, getting a sharp, "No" from me.
She tries the imploring look, and a little soft "meow," but I am heartlessly unmoved. Merely laugh.
She goes back to watching each chip in transit, like Pablo Casals watching a tennis match. Pablo Casals? Damifino. First name that came to mind. Anyway.
Anxiety is building and control is slipping. She kind of leans forward with each chip that makes the passage.
Finally she makes her move - darts forward and tries to bite a chip just as I am putting it into my mouth. She gave me too much warning, though, and I win. She settles back down, giving me a look that reminds me that cats are predators.
I break off a little piece of chip and lay it down for her to have, and she snarf it down. She looks at me, licking her chops, clearly says, "We could have saved a lot of time and anxiety," and leaves.
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