On stepping on pets

I'm not sure what was going on this morning with the alignment of the stars (and the alignment of the pets), but things were not going well.  

My heater broke, which, since it has been on its last leg for about three months, was not a surprise.  

My pets, for some reason, all managed to end up underneath my feet at some point before 9:30 a.m.

This is not a surprise either, because I'm convinced that, emotionally, the cats, at least, are torn between showing me love by winding between my feet, and trying to trip me for kicks and giggles by winding between my feet.  I have not as of yet, in my 13 years with them, figured out whether they love me or just care because they want me to feed them.

The dog, though, does not usually end up under my feet, mostly because he is the dog equivalent of 150 years old or so and spends most of his time sleeping on the couch.

This morning, however, he smelled that I was making food for the cats, he liked the smell, and he decided he clearly needed to bask in the smell's glory by sidling up behind me and slipping his toes directly under my heels at the exact moment I was standing on tiptoe to get something from a shelf.

The reaction each pet has to my stepping on him is, I believe, directly proportional to the amount of love the pet has for me.  

Bad Cat: ERMAGERD!!! What are you doing to me!? Why are you so MEAN!? (dashes under couch with disbelieving terror in his eyes)

Hyperhund the Dog (looking at me balefully, with much sorrow and deep hurt in his eyes): Why, Mother? Why would you do this to me when I clearly love you so much and devote my life to you? Why would you hurt me like this?

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Good Cat (who maybe should no longer be thusly named): I despise you, you clodhopping cow. (hides under couch with rage and disdain in his eyes) As soon as you're asleep, I'll eat your face.

via GIPHY