What's In A Name?

 

(click to enlarge)

Fred jumped on me at 7:46 this morning. 
My living alarm clock. Impatient that I slept
an hour more than usual.
I dressed. He lead me to his empty bowl.
Fred doesn't know his name. 
The one I gave him.
Tizzy comes when I call, not Fred.
Neither one of them knows my name.
How could they? It doesn't matter.
I must be pictures, sounds and 
smells in their minds. 
She who serves food, cleans the box, 
scratches ears, rubs bellies, clips claws, 
flashes the laser light. Who comforts 
when it thunders.
Anxiety when I leave. 
Relief when I return.
And never forgets their snack before bed.
(They don't let me).
             =^..^= =^..^=