My boys are not stupid when it comes to putting food in their bellies. They get fed breakfast every morning and kitty dinner at night, and they know what time of day it is and when to start begging. Kitty dinner time is 9pm (residual from when Nathan and I used to work at the Tempe Public Library, which closed at 9 and we'd feed the boys right when we got home), but the boys start their impatient cat chirps at 8:50. Every night. They've got some good internal kitty clocks. They also know when to beg in the morning. This is a little more sophisticated, because if they piss me off by waking me up, they know their breakfast will be delayed. So to avoid Mallison (the name given to my furious counterpart), they keep their begging in check until the alarm clock goes off. Smart little fluff balls, if you ask me. George is much more vocal about food time than his brother, so it's always a joy when little Fred squeezes out a mooching meow. Awwww...cute cute cute.
George is in the red collar in front, and Fred's sporting the highly fashionable blue in the back.
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