Cat Trauma by Susan L.

  I built a gravity feeder for Pumpkin a while ago. It's basically a tall box painted to look like an apartment building. It holds a two kilogram bag of dry cat food perfectly. That was not intentional it sort of happened that way. Which is great because cupboard space in my tiny house is at a premium. It doesn't work that well, though, even with an angled piece of wood inside at the back to channel the food forward and out the bottom. It takes a prod with a finger each morning to get enough food to drop into the eating tray.
  This morning Pumpkin joyfully tucked his face into breakfast as I picked up his water bowl to fill it with fresh water. It's a rather heavy, glazed ceramic pet bowl that is guaranteed not to tip. The three quarters filled bowl leapt out of my hand just as I turned to pour it into the sink. Pumpkin fled in terror as the bang and explosion of wet covered him, the chairs, the wall, the floor, the cabinets!
  Poor fellow.
  Once the water was mopped up, it took a fair bit of affectionate coaxing and reassurance to get him to return to breakfast. He warily eyed his water dish as he crunched his way through a couple pieces.
  It makes me a bit reluctant to make the black currant jam on my agenda this morning. The berries are waiting in the freezer and I need to make space for Christmas chocolate truffles. I can only pray that a pot full of hot jam doesn't end up a victim of gravity. That'd be a terrible mess to clean up!
  Oh, well. What will be will be. I'll simply proceed with extreme caution.
  "Though the fig tee may not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines; Though the labour of the olive may fail, and the fields yield no food; Thought the flock may be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls--Yet I will rejoice in the lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." Hab 3:17-18