Monday, November 12, 2007

Cookie Whore

I’m not a cat person.

That being said, we have a kitten (plus four other cats, a dog and about a dozen goldfish) that is a doll. I’ve written about her before in the post “LC and Sir” Dec. 30, 2005, but now she has a new trick.

She’s always been a picky eater. Out of every 10 feedings she might eat 3 or 4 times. She’ll walk over to her dish, look at the day’s culinary delight and walk away. Sometimes she’ll sniff it first – then walk away.

Several hours later we’ll hear a rustling sound coming from the kitchen and know she’s on the shelf where we keep her private stash of expensive dry food. Depending on how much of the food is left, we’ll either see her head buried in the bag or, on those occasions where the bag is almost empty, just her butt will be visible. She’ll actually get all the way down into the bag to graze.

Her new nickname, though, is “Cookie Whore.” The moment anyone heads to the kitchen – or even looks like they might be going that way – LC is off at a gallop. By the time we get out there, she’s sitting on the floor, staring up at the container where her treats are stored. If that doesn’t work, she starts rubbing against your leg, purring – telling you that she loves you sooooo much and you need to feed her cookies right now. We normally comply with her wish.

The last time my daughter was home she remarked on the whole LC situation. “You know if you’d raised me the way you’re raising that cat, I’d still be living at home and not married.”

Ah, the truth hurts.