Mine!

This is not about coal or gold mines, but the curmudgeon's personal space.


Tiger, the wonder cat, a hunter-killer, sneaker of chipmunks into the house, and, in arm wrestling, frequently drawing blood, and then flopping over to become adorable, can be quite the pest.


But one thing he has never mastered is what foods are mine. Let me hasten to assure you I don't go after his.  As a curmudgeon, I must take a tv dinner into, oh, I don't know, THE TV ROOM, and a competition begins.  He goes for the food, and I yell "mine!".


In 8 years, this has had no effect.  His home planet must have missed this word in their training.


Eat fast.