Nibble has always performed her Breakfast Song and Dance every morning.
I guess she enjoys her terpsichorean muse because for the last week, I’ve been treated to an evening song and dance performance when she thinks it’s time to top off the dry food bowl.
There will be a short intermission while I join in this evening’s Crunchy Dinner dance.
Yesterday I got groceries. I picked up a bag of marshmallows. I left the bag in the grocery bag on my table. This morning the bag was on the floor, chewed open with a number partially eaten and the rest gooey from humidity. I know it was Pixel. What I don’t understand is a cat that eats marshmallows.
Pixel likes to lick the cheez coating off Cheetos. I can understand that. But she never tries to get in the bag on her own. She waits until I eat them and begs. But a bag of marshmallows I have to hide? WTF? And cats aren’t supposed to like sweet stuff.
Pixel isn’t the first cat owning me that has unusual tastes. Duchess Daisy like Nacho Cheese Doritos, raw potatoes and corn on the cob. No she wasn’t after the butter on the corn. She ate corn cooked or raw. Leave ears unattended and she would get past the husk and chow down. She was sneaky. The ears would look undisturbed until you peeled the husk off to find only half an ear.
