Afternoon tea

Son's family cat Nuzzy has, for a variety of reasons,  taken up permanent residence here. He doesn't mingle with the existing cats and occupies separate quarters, something between a hotel and an internment camp. Nuzzy expects his tea at 3pm on the dot and starts to remind us of that fact around 2pm, becoming increasingly insistent as the hour draws near.
Whenever his erstwhile family is here they do the honours. Here he checks to ensure that the service and portioning are carried out correctly.

I'm reminded of my first job in a country hotel on the Welsh border. Its main attraction for many guests was the opportunity to fish the river Usk. Successful anglers would bring their trout to the kitchen to be cooked for breakfast next day. We waitresses were obliged to ensure that the correct fish was served to the correct guest in the morning. They always seemed to know which it was.