A Conversation with the Cat

For the past 6 weeks or so, our nineteen year old cat has been here.  Under our bay window rolled up so no one can see him.  Or at least that's what he thinks.  So when I was coming downstairs yesterday I couldn't resist having this conversation with him.

"Forrest!"  I yell.

No response. 

I think he's deaf, but it could just be selective hearing. 

I prefer to think that he's deaf!

I get a little closer.  

"Forrest."  A little louder.  

Still no response.

"Buddy!"

"What?" He replies a bit irritated.

"Just checking on you."  I say.  "Everything okay?"

"It was. Until you interrupted a perfectly good nap." He manages to say.

"Oh.  Well I just wanted to hang out and pet you for a while."

"If you must." Clearly allowing me to do this only because he knows I am the hand that feeds him!

After very little response.  He goes back to this.

And I go back to leaving him alone to sleep in peace.  Until the next time I arouse him of course!