I have a good idea. Here's an approximation of a conversation we might have upon my return to the house after a long day on the job:

"What's up, bitch? Let's see some food on the table."

"Can you wait a sec while I put my bags down and get settled?"

"You don't have a minute, sucker. You get some food out for us right now or we're going to puke on your mat. In fact, we might puke on your mat even if bring you food out right now. We like to keep you guessing that way."

"And you best make sure it's something we like. And none of this, oh, it's been in the fridge for two days, but the cats won't mind, bullshit. We want something fresh. Else, we're going to relieve our bladders on your mattress."

"Um, ok."

That's my cats, folks.