When I wake I execute a perfect stretch; ass up, head down, reaching out in front and up in back. It feels so good. When it is time to move, I wind myself around ankles, entwining on the stairs, avoiding sluggish kicks and grumpy intonations. I am hungry. I am focused on that now. I am hungry around the ankles again. I am hungry in my voice. Have I mentioned that I am hungry?
When the food is put in front of me I crouch and sniff. No, not hungry now. I paw at the floor to bury the vile offering. No, I will not eat it.