“Mew,” he said in his soft, sweet, voice. “Mew.” He rubbed his furry body against my calf and looked up with dark, imploring eyes. “Mew.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll open another can for you. Please eat it this time.”
I opened the can and spooned contents into a bowl. As I did, the cat celebrated with low purring and sharper, louder mews. I put the bowl down on the floor. “Here you go,” I said.
The cat stepped up to the bowl, but stopped several inches short of it. Leaning forward, he sniffed, and then he looked up at me with hurt sadness.
Turning away from me and the bowl of food, he made three strokes with one front paw, miming covering the food like he was burying his scat. As he did, he gave me a side-glance that whispered, “You are so disappointing.”
Then, bushy tail high and waving like a flag in a light breeze, he trotted away.