Just an Asian lady drawing a bath

I know I dreamed more, but my only recollection was the last image in my head before I awoke to a houseful of hungry cats protesting their empty (yes, completely empty) food bowl. That image was a matronly Asian lady wearing a black robe filling a bathtub. She was preparing a special bath to make her scent amenable to deer, presumably so that she could hunt them. That's about it, anything more would be fabrication after the fact. 

How did the empty cat food bowl escape my notice? Eddie Rabbit did her preliminary puking the day before, a telltale sign that she was worried about something food related. They were both fighting and competing for my attention, too. Oh, and I'd noticed that the bottom of the bowl had become visible, meaning that the countdown to apocalyptic famine and starvation had begun. 

So, having ignored all the signs, I shouldn't have been surprised to find that the bowl was completely empty, not one bit of kibble remaining. I do feed them gravy made with the gelatin from my instant pot turkey, like, every single day, twice a day. But never mind that, this was clearly abandonment, neglect and abuse and cannot be tolerated. 

Eddie followed me to the storage closet where I keep the food in a plastic container. She jumped up on the stepstool and started eating the food the moment I began scooping it in the bowl. She remained locked on the bowl as I carried it back to its spot in the hallway, focusing on it with the targeted tracking of a missile guidance system. 

Meanwhile, the guinea hens were determined to make sure I didn't get back to sleep after filling the cat bowl, scraping and scratching their way across my roof doing their little morning sprints. I cursed them and went on the front porch flapping my umbrella in an alpha male display of territorial aggression. It worked, but it is only a temporary victory. 

As long as I'm also their source of scratch grain, and as long as they sleep in the trees adjacent to the house, we will have this constant turf war. I don't want to shoot at them with the BB gun or hurt them in any way, but they could be making my 40 year roof into a 5 year leaky piece of cheesecloth with all their runway antics. Those claws are ridiculously sharp and abrasive. 

Even the older neighborhood guineas have joined in on the routine, having seen the benefits of being full-time members of the flock that gets fed chicken scratch by me daily. Perhaps I will have to move the feeding locale, or stop feeding them altogether and they can go back to foraging and roaming the neighborhood. 

It is like what I fear would happen if you invite a homeless person over for dinner. They'd overstay their welcome and the next thing you know they are showering and pooping in your bathroom every day. I'm just not the sugar daddy type, I guess. I'd probably hand out lemons for Halloween just to keep the kids away.