In other news, Napoleon and Illya were waiting for me by the front door when I walked outside this morning with their food, and Napoleon read me the riot act (mew mew Mew mew MEW!--she has the cutest little squeaky door mew) while I filled their bowls. Illya hunkered down about ten or fifteen feet away, squinched his eyes, and waited for me to leave, but Napoleon walked around in little quarter-circles almost within arm's-reach, and finally hunkered down and made a tea cozy to wait for me to step away from the food.
I'm winning. *g*
In the final proof that I named them aptly, Napoleon bosses and bullies her brother, and even when I give them separate bowls, she thinks nothing of shoving his face right out of his and having a look to see if what he's got is better. And him? He just sighs at her, rolls his eyes, and switches to the other bowl.
I swear I've never seen a cat roll its eyes before.