Cat Food of Champions.

G'ma's Alzheimer's is becoming a bit of a comedy routine.

We've taken away her ability to feed Psycho Kitty, because she was feeding him every time he squawked.

Oh, and how he squawks!

All fucking day.

He and Mr. Moustache ...

... rest in peace little one ...

... would croon together, now it's just Psycho Kitty, and he has to make up for the loss of his best friend and brother by speaking all day long, every minute, every breath.

Unless he's eating, sleeping or assuming the stance in the bathtub.

Yes, the stance.  I'll have to share a picture with you.  I haven't caught him in the act today, but this is something you have to see, so it will be on my list for 'you', my imaginary friend.

Anyway.

So, there's G'ma, translating every meep out of Psycho Kitty as, "Please, can I have some more?"

And more was given.

All day, every day.

So we took the food away, and Psycho Kitty kept meowing, so G'ma had to come up with a plan.

That's when I went up and saw cereal in his kitty dish.  Cat's shouldn't eat human cereal for food.

However, the old fart upstairs thought it the best Plan 'B'.

"G'ma you can't give the cat cereal!"

"It's not cereal, it's his food.  It was in the cupboard."

"No, G'ma.  These containers are yours.  You eat this, not the cat."

"But, I don't eat that!"

Oh, but yes you do, you old coot.

It's your All-Bran.

You ask for it all the time.  That and your prunes.

Along with the cat food, Papi and I also have to hide her pills and her hearing aid batteries, not to mention we have to distribute her sherry.

The pills are obvious.  She forgets.

But the hearing aid batteries are because she thinks they need replacing every day. 

No, you decrepit old bird.  You're just deaf and there's only so much that little gizmo can do for you.

And well, hiding the sherry is because you forget you've already had a drink and we'll find you upstairs in front of the TV in a sherry coma if we don't watch you like a toddler who gets into everything.

Yes.  We have a child.

She's 96 years old and feisty.

And I just heard the same story 10 minutes ago that I hear every morning when I go up to feed Psycho Kitty and let out the one and a half dogs.

"The TV's not working."

"Yes, it is G'ma.  It's just that you push the wrong buttons."

"No, I press this one."

Exactly.

Grant me the serenity.

life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dancing in the rain