Cat whining woke us up at some ungodly hour. Mr.Q, bless him, got up to see what was going on. Nothing. Just an empty food dish. Whiners. So he filled it, and we went back to sleep.
I woke up to the sun peeping through the blinds, and thought it would be a lovely morning to sit in my Magic Room with my journal and a cup of coffee. And right in the middle of the Magic Room was "breakfast." A wing. Joint and all.
Mr.Q has now officially more than made up for the waking-me-up-for-a-wake-up-call call. He leapt right out of bed and dealt with it for me.
Yes, I can, in fact, deal with it myself. I did, several times a week, while he was on tour last fall. When the Mighty Hunter decided that he would take over the role of the "man in the house" and provide for me. (Attempts to explain that I could really manage things myself, and he didn't have to bother, were ineffectual.) Considering that the Mighty Hunter is his cat, it seemed only fair that he take a turn while he's home. And he did, willingly and without complaint. He's so awesome.
He went back to bed, I went back to the Magic Room...and found the remains of the other wing under my chair.
Mr.Q got up again and made it all better. And now he's making coffee. (Though what I really want is a beer, or maybe some tequila, at this point!) It's nice having a resident knight in shining armour.