Every day when I get up in the morning, or come home in the evening, Squeaky Cat explains to me that he is DYING OF STARVATION because he is very close to just about almost being able to see the bottom of his food dish. Practically. It’s not actually empty, but he can see that it could possibly become empty at some point and feels very strongly that I should remediate this emergency immediately.
Kitty gets quite agitated about it, and tells me very clearly and very loudly that I am abusing him terribly by feeding him so little. Usually his lament is accompanied by running up and down the hall weaving between my feet until he gets too exhausted (because he is STARVING, yo) and flings himself onto the area rug in his best dramatic manner.
As you can see, he is practically a skeleton cat, and his life is nothing but endless suffering. Oh, and misery. Lots of misery. No one knows the troubles he’s seen. Etc.
Squeaky Cat, like some of the people who live with him, has issues with food. He doesn’t like his food dish to actually get empty, and will not finish all of his food unless a “people” is around who can refill it.
As Stephen put it, he gets down to his last 37 pieces of kibble and goes into Apocalypse mode until more food goes into his bowl. He does his very best to convince anyone in the room that his need is dire. It might be a little more convincing if he was slightly less rotund.
Or if the food dish was, in fact, empty.
He won’t stand for any nonsense about it, either-he expects his bowl to be filled in a prompt manner.
He can be quite stern about it.