Rusty’s Complaint

Poor Rusty.  He complains alot!  This morning, he wanted to play with my pills.

Bob is “in charge” of getting our pills and vitamins ready in the morning. Rusty knows when this is happening, and he stands at the ready.  This morning, I was still at the table, watching TV, and all of a sudden, Rusty was on the table.  He wanted my pills.  I gave him the “down” signal and he got off, right onto the chair usually occupied by Bob.  I continued to look at the TV.  My peripheral vision came into play:  out of the corner of my eye, I saw a red paw slowly reaching toward the small glass that held my pills.  I had left it too close to the edge of the table.  I pulled it away just in time.  (Some time ago, I wasn’t as watchful, and my pills and the glass dish was scattered across the floor!)  I yelled, and he scampered off to where Bob was sitting.  The disappointed little guy was so distraught that he let off a stream of complaint at Bob like you never heard before!

Meow! Purr!

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