opening a can of chicken

Tonight's protein was canned chicken. As I cranked the can opener, listening to the ever-rising ringing of the can lid, I remembered how my adopted cat Callie used to flip over the moon for chicken out of a can. I would always give her a few bits. As is typical for a cat, she would be in the kitchen mewing within seconds of the can hissing open. That's how I knew she was really sick -- when she wouldn't come running. I miss her a lot.