Man's faux best friend

I keep Layla's food bowl tucked away and locked up in my room so that the dog cannot get to it, and it didn't take Layla very long to figure out that the only way to get to her chow was to meow pathetically at me and then scurry to the stairs. This situation worked beautifully for about a week, but today Layla decided to bypass the old system and head straight for a food source that is far more accessible. I speak, of course, of the dog food in the laundry room.

Allow me to point out the laughing point here: I am a grade A cat person; in the battle of cats versus dogs, I'd argue that cats win every category. I do not particularly care for dogs for a whole litany of reasons that aren't really worth discussing. Yet, I have in my possession a lap cat who not only follows me everywhere, but also comes when I call and would just as soon eat doggy kibble as mega-haute-super-premium baby kitten food. My new kitten is an abomination, but you know what? Tomorrow I think I'm going to start teaching her to fetch.