Knee Deep in Needy

Poor Fergie

As the sole remaining animal in the house, it is Fergie's responsibility to hold down the fort while the Partner in Crime and I are at work during the day.
This has not, in the past, been an issue.
Previously, the PIC would leave for work between 8 and 8:30 a.m., and I'd often be home at around noon.
Now, with my new job (yay), she's faced with a new prospect. Both her caregivers were gone today by 7:45 a.m. and the first of us didn't get home until 4:45 p.m.
Given her reaction, she must have thought she'd been abandoned.
"Pet me! Pet me!" she meowed.
I ignored her for a bit. After all, we'd put a full can of wet food in her bowl this morning, she had plenty of dry food, and plenty of water.
She's just whining, I thought.
But no. It continued, "Pet me! Pet me!"
So, I changed my clothes, tore myself away from the daily blogroll, and settled into the living room for a good stroke. A little NPR on the stereo, and a full glass of grape Kool-Aid by my side, I was content.
And she was content.
For about 10 minutes.
That's when she jumped off my lap.

You need what you need, I guess. And you don't need more.