Grouchy Pouchy

Today was not a good day to be my pouch.  Or my food for that matter.

The Brit and I went to lunch today as I had a hankering for crab in some form, so there is a restaurant across town that has incredible crabcakes.  As it comes with fries, I substituted a side salad, which they brought out first.  So of course, by the time I had eaten part of the salad, I could only manage 1/4 of my crabcake.  So, we boxed it up and I was looking forward to eating it later.

Upon arriving home, my neighbor across the street waved me over as they had another stray cat (we just found a home for one a few weeks ago and now there is another).  As we discussed how thin this kitty was and that I recommended kitten food for the calories to put some weight on this little guy, and how they could put neosporin on the little wound on his back leg, the boxed up crabcake and my iced tea, which I had unwittingly sat on the hood of The Brit's car, promptly slid off and fell into the street.  Crabcake and tea everywhere.  So much for dinner.

So tonight, I heated up a bit of leftover steak and an ear of corn, which was not going down well at all.  I finally gave up and ate a handful of grapes.  Yes, the protein of my day sucked, but there are just days when nothing makes the pouch happy.  Some people name their pouches, but I refuse because I think it is silly.  However, if I were to name it and named it today, I would dub him Grumpy.  And yes, he would be a male....