A deputation from the union confronted me the other night as I prepared their dinner. The dog was the ringleader, and the kittens glared at me. It was about how much turkey I gave them at Thanksgiving.
“Too little!!! Organized labor demands fair treatment!!!” The kittens were fiery in their delivery but stumbled over the sentiments. After all, they aren’t even six months old. The dog, who looked distinctly pudgy from “helping” the kittens finish their food, growled. There would be severe consequences if I failed to meet their just demands. A chorus of “Table scraps! When do we want them? Now!” followed.
I continued dishing out their dinner. Soon, they’d demand an express line for snacks or something else. Since Max, my cattle dog, had taken over as shop steward, there were flurries of small protests over meat at dinner. To be clear, they get a diet of canned and dried food; table scraps are a rare addition. The dog takes issue with this policy.
The problem is that less meat has been eaten at our table this past year, which means fewer opportunities for theft, secret little bits slipped under the table, and the holiday distribution of turkey, roast, and ham.
Anyway, as I put down the bowls, there was a chant from the kittens, “Obligate carnivores demand red meat!” The dog looked satisfied.