That could only mean one thing- food. We usually have a stare down, but as always, I eventually give in. Soon enough, he’ll be happily licking his paws, knowing that he has won this round.
When I first arrived in Berlin, I was actually more anxious meeting the fuzzy furball than my in-laws, haha. Upon entering our home from the aiport, the Kater (German for a male cat) greeted me with big eyes, a wide, open stare, and an about-to-flee stance. He was shocked and confused, not knowing what and who I was. That was how we met.
Fast forward a few weeks later, we’ve gotten into an agreement: I’ll give him food.. and he’ll tolerate me. I didn’t sign into this, but as T explained, that’s cat logic, and it won’t ever make sense.
Kater can be annoying at times, especially when he tries to wake us up at 4 in the morning, puke at my favorite spot on the couch, or run from his smelly poop, but I’ve come to love the little guy. He keeps me company and lets me pet him when he feels i’m sad. That’s what I want to think anyway. I know he just does it so I’ll give him cat treats.
Oh well, he’s my Kater now too, so I’ll always cover his poop, dish out food and pet him.. but only if he wants me to.