“Okay,” Ebony sighed. “One more time. What is the best meat?”
“The stuff in my bowl!” Killer stated firmly, his tail fanning back and forth over his back.
Ebony groaned and turned to clean her gleaming coat. This was not really any harder than she had expected. Granted most of the other barn cats had given up on Killer. They were content to avoid him, leaving him to his strange delusion. Some were friendly enough with him. Miss Kitty and Queenie both enjoyed a good romp but Ebony was determined to connect him with his inner lion.
“Cats appreciate what the two-legs do for us,” Ebony began again once she was calm enough. “Their cat skill are non-existent but they somehow bring home food for the non-hunters, but we are not dependant on them.”
“Yes, I know that,” Killer interrupted, jumping up and pacing around her. “But that doesn’t factor in.”
“Of course it factors in!” Ebony snapped.
“But I’m a dog!” Killer said.
Ebony groaned and gave him a half affectionate head butt. “Have you ever seen a grown dog as small as you?” She demanded.
“Look,” Killer said a bit irritably. “I herd the chickens, I herd the goats, and I watch out for raccoons and coyotes.” He sat and puffed out his chest. “I even sit on the hill with Sputnik.” He leaned forward and grinned at her. “I run with the big dogs.”
“Calicoie sits with Sputnik,” Ebony pointed out dryly. “Look, the answer is bird. The best meat is bird.”
“Well I wouldn’t know,” Killer said dismissively as he bent over to chew his leg.
“How about I bring you a fresh one next time I catch one,” Ebony suggested. Noting inspired cattiness like live prey.
“Sure, sure,” Killer answered.
This was going to be harder than she thought.