I cut my foot the other day.
Nothing serious, but I didn’t notice until I saw the spots of blood on the tile floor.
Before I had a chance to clean it up the cat noticed.
And I noticed her noticing.
She was sauntering down the hall when she must have smelled it.
She stopped, crouched down and sniffed around.
Then she looked up at me with such a look of horror on her face I actually burst out laughing!
I could just imagine what thoughts were going through her mind.
Am I cut?
No, it’s not my blood.
OMG, it’s her! She’s bleeding/maimed/dying!
Who’s going to feed me/pet me/clean my litter box/spray my mousie with catnip?!
She ran and hid for the rest of the day, proving once again that loyalty is a canine trait!