J was on his own for cooking dinner, tonight, because I had both eyes dilated today. The world is made of strange visual effects but is clearing slowly. He found most of a rotisserie chicken in the fridge. Good. No complicated cooking to do.
We saw o1 doc's local area on the national news and J gave them a call on the cell phone. While he was talking, he set his nearly empty plate on a hassock by his feet. Mew saw him do this.
She streaked past me with something in her mouth, headed for her food dish and made a deposit. She had put her bite-sized, contraband chicken into the bowl which automatically made it hers, she thought.
Reminded me of a Siamese cat we had years ago who left fang marks on either side of the breastbone of an unattended, 20 pound roast turkey.
Now, that's ambition.