It’s Tortilla Time

As I sat and ate my cereal this fine morning, Seamus suddenly appeared on the couch next to me. He inched closer and closer to the bowl, hoping, PRAYING that for some absurd reason I’d grant him permission to consume the remnants of my breakfast. I shot him a disapproving look and Seamus, sensing my aggravated aura, backed off instantaneously.

I continued feasting on my Special K cereal, Seamus glaring at me with a look of immense resentment. Oh Seamus, I thought amidst his envy, there is a reason I am the master and you are the beast. I am capable of thinking for myself and vocalizing my thoughts and desires. You just sit there and stare blankly whilst I consume my scrumptious human food. Later you will probably lick your own butt.

I chuckled to myself and continued shovelling cereal in my mouth.

It wasn’t two minutes later that Seamus began growling at an object directly behind me.
What is it, boy? I asked, as he grew increasingly distressed. He began baring his teeth, a deed done only when he feels his life is in peril. Thinking that there was possibly some sort of intruder in my home, I quickly turned around to investigate. I studied the area, but could find no indication of any sort of plausible reason for Seamus to growl.

As I turned back I noticed Seamus’ head submerged in my cereal, taking this opportunity to consume as much of it as humanly possible. He looked guilty, but had a look of genuine satisfaction smeared across his smug face. I had been had. The beast had outsmarted his master.

Okay Seamus, you win, I muttered in defeat. I couldn’t even find it in myself to be mad at him.