She had gotten her annual shots and they did blood work on her, too, because of her age. She didn't like that at all and attacked everyone in the office when they tried to keep pressure on the spot where they had taken the blood. That's our Maximum Leader! A whirlwind of death and destruction when she's angry. To add insult to injury, I promptly went on travel and her Serene Furriness went on an apparent hunger strike in a fit of pique. Our neighbors came by to feed her, but her dish stayed full. When I returned, she simply refused to touch her food. I gave her some tuna, which she ate immediately, but her crunchies remained untouched.
Deeply concerned, I locked her in the house overnight. We have a cat door which is open 24/7, but I closed this off to her. Last night she ate all of her food. It's pretty clear what happened. One of our neighbors, perhaps as a result of some personal problems, has been appealing to the Mystical Powers™ of the Feline Theocracy by feeding our Maximum Leader. She's been dining out all this time.
While we appreciate the fact that some have an urgent need for the intercession of her Serene Furriness, we really must find the source of these victuals and cut them off. I'm sure we can persuade them that her purrayers on their behalf will be just as strong if they but offer her substantial petting and praise.
For more posts on purring epicureans, visit this week's Friday Ark and Carnival of the Cats.