A Hungry Lesson

I had to be tough with Sable yesterday.

At meal times - breakfast, dinner and snack - all the cats gather in their usual places: several of them in the sitting room, a couple in the kitchen, a few more in more remote spots. Sable’s habitual place is under the dining table. Yesterday at dinner-time, she remained downstairs. I called her several times; she knows the routine, she understands what bringing out the dishes means and she comprehends the word ‘dinner’. I even went to the library where she was lying on the couch to encourage her to come upstairs. She chose not to.

I am certain that she was not feeling poorly. She had been playing with a fuzzy mouse not long before, and later she was grooming herself calmly and normally. But she didn’t want to come up for dinner. Consequently, she missed it. She went without.

In the past, I would take food to her, wherever she was: in the library, under the bed. But Sabe has been eating in the kitchen for months now. She is past the point of belonging to the group enough to dine with the rest of us. To allow her to eat elsewhere now would, I think, be a danger of allowing her to slip out of her progress. To be honest, I think she was just being finicky. Nonetheless, if one of the others refused to appear for a meal, they too would go without; Valkyrie is mercurial enough to do that from time to time. Setting rules for Sable is part of her socialisation. And, except for certain times - at night and between dinner and snack - there is hard-food available that all are able to eat and most enjoy. No one starves.

At snack-time, Sable appeared as usual, waiting under the dining table for her bowl. She ate a little more than her normal amount. I don’t know if she learned a hungry lesson, but she’s smart, so I hope she got the idea. What she may think of me won’t be mentioned.