The Porridge Bowl

It was a fine feathery day in heaven and I was flitting around, after just having spent some time helping my Aunty Kate finish a crossword. She used to do Sudoku’s on earth but up here we have heavenly word puzzles that involve the Saints. Some of them are a bit elusive, and even though she’s a good Catholic auntie and knows a lot – I’ve been here longer than she has, so was able to make a few suggestions.

Came across Ralphie rolling around on a cloud, howling with laughter.  That will teach them to replace me with such a ragamuffin, he spluttered with mirth.

A tad unseemly behaviour for heaven, but then Ralph is a bit of a gangster at heart.

I peered over his shaking shoulder to see what was so incredibly amusing.

They were in the bedroom…

Alpha was having his usual breakfast in bed. Jack was sitting on Alpha’s chest, attempting to lick the porridge off his face. Alpha’s infinite patience was being somewhat tried.

Hey! I exclaimed. That’s my porridge bowl!

Ralph sitting elegantly!

Don’t be stupid, replied Ralph, that’s my porridge bowl! Except I used to sit elegantly at the end of the bed and watch him eat. If he took too long I would loudly voice my disdain by turning around and facing the cupboard.  When he’d finished he would ting-ting on the edge of the bowl with his spoon. I’d ignore him for a bit, then casually saunter up and do him the favour of licking up the last few morsels of porridge.

I glared at Ralph. I’m telling you – that was MY porridge bowl!

I would sit on the floor next to Alpha’s side of the bed and drool, waiting for him to finish. Sometimes I’d have to hurry him along with a little whinge or two. He’d give me THE look and tell me it was HIS breakfast. I should be patient. He also used to do the ting-ting on the side of his bowl thing with a spoon. Was quite funny actually… every now and then Alpha would get out of bed and almost slip on a puddle of drool. He’d make hysterical eeergh gross disgusting noises.

By now Zed and Skunk had joined our group and were also peering down from the skies.

Oi! I remember that bowl, yipped Skunkie. Alpha always had his brekkers out of it. When I grew into my legs I could easily reach the bowl next to his bed and scarf a lick when mom was not watching.  Not that Alpha ever left very much in it. Wasn’t very exciting really, preferred to steal Looseyfur’s  food.

Zed scowled. His legs were too short to reach anything on a table and he didn’t like to hear Skunk the Punk boasting.

We all watched as Jack tried again and again to stick his face into Alpha’s porridge bowl. He was very persistent. Each time Alpha would flick his nose gently. Jack would sit back and purr loudly, wait until Alpha was distracted by lifting the spoon to his mouth and try sticking his head in the bowl again.

Flick sniff flick sniff purr flick dodge flick purr… so it went.

Mom piped up… You are wasting your time you know. Cats cannot be trained. You’ve been doing this for three weeks now and nothing has changed. Jack still tries to lick the Weetabix off your chops.

Alpha made a face at mom. He spooned up the last bit of porridge and put the bowl down on the bed. Jack dived into it. Literally!

Jack with his face in the bowl!

Hey! Alpha exclaimed, waving the spoon around. I had not even ting-tinged yet.

Jack did not flicker a whisker, merely continued to ravish the bowl like he had not eaten in days – which I know was a lie because I’d seen mom play the choosey game with him in the kitchen earlier.

Then Ralph sauntered off… Show’s over for today furry folks – let’s go do some angel stuff.