>> Monday, October 29, 2012
I knew I'd arrived when the rustling of the grill cover got the attention of the neighbor's cats.
The first time they circled like vultures hovering over roadkill. As time went on, they became bolder.
One began nosing behind the trash can, peering at me through the fence, while his partner in crime stood watch. Eventually, the curious kitty squeezed under the gate in order to evaluate the meat du jour.
They salivate and whine. Drool, purr, and beg. All while my own cats stay in the house, blissfully ignorant of the invasion.
Then there was the day they started heading my way just because it was five o'clock. And looked completely annoyed when I shrugged and said, "Too bad, guys, I'm eating out tonight."
Geez, now they can tell time?
One even had the audacity to jump up on the grill after I finished cooking. Fortunately for her, it had cooled down. If not, bet the first time would have been the last.
My cooking may not have reached purrrfection as yet, but according to some, it is the cat's meow.