I Understand Why Some People Don't Trust Cats
The Cat definitely has those sneaky feline moments.
Tonight, I browned some ground beef to put into spaghetti sauce. While the spaghetti was boiling and the sauce was heating up, I was checking my e-mail.
Suddenly, The Cat leapt up on left side of my desk and nuzzled me a bit. I kept typing as she walked behind the laptop to her usual warm napping spot. However, instead of settling down, she popped out from behind, on the right side. She then proceeded to walk across the keys.
Of course, I snapped to fixing whatever she just did to my computer. (At least this time she didn't hit any F-keys--it's a nightmare trying to figure out which ones she pounded.)
Just as I was getting everything back to normal, I heard the "thump" of cat feet on the kitchen floor. I looked to my left, and The Cat was licking her chops. . . as she sat on the floor directly below the sink.
Where the empty browned-beef pan sat in the sink awaiting soap and water.
Sneaky.
Tonight, I browned some ground beef to put into spaghetti sauce. While the spaghetti was boiling and the sauce was heating up, I was checking my e-mail.
Suddenly, The Cat leapt up on left side of my desk and nuzzled me a bit. I kept typing as she walked behind the laptop to her usual warm napping spot. However, instead of settling down, she popped out from behind, on the right side. She then proceeded to walk across the keys.
Of course, I snapped to fixing whatever she just did to my computer. (At least this time she didn't hit any F-keys--it's a nightmare trying to figure out which ones she pounded.)
Just as I was getting everything back to normal, I heard the "thump" of cat feet on the kitchen floor. I looked to my left, and The Cat was licking her chops. . . as she sat on the floor directly below the sink.
Where the empty browned-beef pan sat in the sink awaiting soap and water.
Sneaky.
Comments
We tend to eat on TV trays during the week. I can't turn my back on the cat for a moment and he sometimes doesn't even wait for me to turn my back. He has stolen pork chops right off of my plate and chicken or turkey is never, ever safe.
Rob--that's right: "What's yours is mine, and what's mine is mine." Pork chops are a major favorite around here, too. It's almost as if they recall that their big cat ancestors brought down wild boars or something.
Amazing what will make them perk up. A couple of months ago, my dad got up from his Saturday lunch in front of the TV to answer the phone. When he returned, the meat was missing from his sandwich. The arthritic, hyperthyroid, almost-19-year-old cat was enjoying it, as she sat in his seat.