"Who IS this new Roommate of Ours and What IS She Feeding Me?"
Last night I came home from my hour-long boxing class at the gym totally exhausted and looking forward to a nice hot shower and a couple hours of complete relaxation in my apartment. The minute I walked in I noticed an immediate look of disappointment on Oreo’s face. Almost as if to say, “Oh, it’s you…you don’t feed me, Danielle feeds me…Well, I’ll come over and you can pet me anyway.” My first reaction was, “I’m sorry Oreo! It’s just me coming home…not Danielle. I’m sorry Buddy.” (Why was I apologizing?…I pay my portion of the rent). Oreo began his meowing which doesn’t sound like a meow at all, more like maaahhh! (Trust me, it’s a weird sound.) It was and he hadn’t eaten since this morning. Poor soul. And now he’s stuck here with me. I immediately called my all-knowing mother, whose advice was the obvious. “Feed him something!” Oreo began pacing the apartment, rolled himself on the rug, got up, and then headed to the pantry door which he then proceeded to stand up and open with his two front paws. He was trying to tell me, “
Twenty minutes later, clean, naked and toweling off, I suddenly see my bathroom door knob slowly turning to open. Remembering that I had locked the door I called, “Who’s there?” The response, “Maaahhh!” It was as if the deprivation of food was