For my cats, I cut apart an old fleece robe into big sheets of fleece. Fleece is a cat magnet, judging by how the cats glom onto any horizontal fleece surface, and by how the fleece locks the cat hair on and never lets it go. I spread the fleece out on the bed and that's where the cats spent the day. Oz thinks I should have left the cuffs on the sleeves and used them for cat sweaters.
I baked a sweet potato cheesecake, not quite a tradition since I haven't made one in a couple years. The cheesecake has a topping made of sour cream, sugar, and vanilla extract and the cheesecake has to cool for several hours before you put it in the fridge. My evil cat Sparky is not interested in dairy products, so I wasn't concerned about leaving the cheesecake unattended. I forgot about how he likes to vandalize baked goods. When I went back into the kitchen to check on the cheesecake, I found that it had been licked!
"You can just scrape off that bit," Oz points out and reaches for the spoon lying in the sink.
"Yes, but you can't use the cat food spoon!" With a clean spoon from the drawer, I scrape a layer of sour cream off the licked area and wave it in front of him. "So you want this?"
"Sure! Cat spit makes it good."
240 words | December 24, 2004 08:45 PM | Real true story