|Espresso The Great|
Nope, no sir, I was not in the mood for food on Tuesday night. Of course, my hoomin noticed it immediately and started with a lecture. "You know, Wednesday is a short day at the V. E. T. And your favorite tech probably won't be there. Blah, bla bla bla, Blah!"
How the thump would he know? Well, the medicine came out next. Then, the big, fat syringe loaded with Sarx.
I gave him hell, I tell ya! We fought over every bite and every swallow of the stuff. By midnight, I had him worn out real good. Real good! Ya shoulda' seen that mug; looked like death on a stick.
Sigh, by two or three in the morning, my appetite came back. I stormed into the bedroom, tossed his slippers, flapped my ears, and settled down by the bed. I got some head rubs and felt my ears. He ran out to "my" room and saw the saaaaaalad bowl empty and turned over. My fresh deposit in the bin was pure gold. It boggles my mind how the hoomins go nuts like that over a pile of raisins.
We'll keep you posted,