Sunday pancakes with Keith

More about Sunday pancakes with Keith

Every Sunday, my humans make pancakes, and my life is complete. I wake up at the crack of dawn, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. I stretch my sleek body, arch my back, and let out a loud meow to remind them that I'm ready for my pancake fix.

As they mix and flip, the aroma of sweet batter fills the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. Finally, the moment arrives, and they hand me a bite. The fluffy goodness dissolves on my tongue, and I close my eyes in bliss. It's like a little piece of heaven in my mouth.

My humans laugh at my antics, but they know how much this tradition means to me. They even give me my own little syrup-free pancake, just for me. It's our special Sunday ritual, and I cherish every moment of it.

As I lick my paws and curl up in a sunbeam, I feel grateful for this life of pancake-filled Sundays. It's a good life, and I'm one happy cat.