Dinner

I don’t actually know what Dragons eat. I can’t describe IT. I don’t even know where they come from. And I don’t want to know either. I do know that they’re half-way around the world from happy though. And probably a round the world trip from elated.

Fortunately  - for me, not whatever ‘IT’ is - Kevins’ need for sustenance is similar to that of large reptiles. He can go a week or so between meals. This in turn allows me to enjoy some of my meals in relative peace. Oh. Happy days.

Because Dragons like to play with their food.

Dragons – Have Awful Table Manners

Kevin doesn’t go out anywhere and bring his dinner home because Dragons are not Your Usual Pet. They don’t have take-away facilities either. They don’t just call up the local Dragony Fried Chicken – or McDragons. Nope. A family bucket and coke won’t come close to feeding your average Dragon. And it doesn’t even come near to close where Kevin’s concerned.

Their Dinner* just - appears. Usually Dinner looks a bit … rubbery. Occasionally, Dinner arrives late. But you can always rely on Dinner … to be animate** With it. Alive and kicking.  Ok, alive and not kicking. The kicking usually comes later. Right around the time that Dinner figures out that IT’s for dinner. And Dinner just knows, through a mixture of gut feeling and facts, that no matter what, ITs chances of survival range from none to less than none.

Because Dragons are huge. Sneaky. And hungry.

On Stalking

Dragons don’t stalk. They have no finesse – absolutely none. Remove any images from your mind of a cheetah sneakily crawling through an African plain, staying upwind and out of sight, of a gazelle.

When Kevins’ dinner arrives he’s way too gleeful, not to mention hungry, for anything remotely resembling stalking. First and foremost, stalking involves surprise. Kevin kinda ruins that from the off by winking at his dinner and doing the Dragon version of ‘BOO!’. Stalking also involves stealth. Kevin doesn’t quite get the meaning of stealth. He’s belongs to the Rampage School of Stalking. It was his major. And most important of all - stalking involves the possibility of escape for the prey. No amount of running, hiding and distraction, on the behalf of Dinner, ever results in Dinners’ escape.

I know for certain that Kevin could just capture and eat Dinner in a matter of seconds. He just prefers to play with it first. I don’t know for sure if this is inherent behaviour or if Kevin’s been watching too many cats playing with mice and has adopted the practice. However, it’s one thing when cats play with their food.

And entirely another when Kevin fools around with Dinner.

On *Eating

Dragons don’t eat so much as devour. They demolish, gobble – and belch fire. Kevin insists he’s just ‘giving his food some colour’. I disagree. I know a burp when I hear one. Even if it does involve a little heat. Kevin also doesn’t use cutlery, though I know he can. He says he likes to eat his meals ‘au naturale’ – in the way of his ancestors. I disagree with this too. His ancestors lived in mountain caves, not apartments. Kevin argues that apartments are the ‘contemporary cave for the modern Dragon’.

Yes Kevin. And Dragons have great table manners.

On Reflection

I remain opposed and disagreeable with regard to sharing the table with Kevin. As far as he’s concerned, his table manners and/or pre-dinner shenanigans are normal. And yes, maybe they are. For a Dragon. But … I don’t know … I’m used to a more refined culinary experience. Small talk. Social interaction. And food that met its demise before it got to my plate. That kind of thing. And the height of Kevins’ awful table manners? He simply vanishes after dinner.

Leaving all the washing-up to me.

*this is what I call Kevins’ food. Naming Kevin is a pain in the ass. Naming his food is easy. “Kevin – Dinner’s arrived” has a nice, obvious ring to it.

**inanimate would be easier. For me and Dinner anyway. Kinder too.