The cat had my tongue (and the butter)
Today after church, I went to a friend's house for Sunday dinner. I was standing by the beautifully set table when I saw the cat jump onto the table, between the array of plates and cups. While I was wondering how this cat got so large (and could still jump), I saw the cat move briskly toward the stick of butter. Before I could say or do anything, the cat got a few good licks in on the butter. Quickly, Kyle snagged the cat off the table before anyone else saw what the cat had done. I wanted to tell the host what had happened but Kyle said they would throw the whole stick of butter away. I guess it's better that I didn't say anything.
posted by Johnny Tiersma at 6.2.05
6 Comments:
I remember when I was little I used to physically abuse the neighborhood cats. I would like hold them up by their tales and stuff. I never really did like cats. I guess I was rather a jerk.
My vote for most clever blog titles still goes to you. If I were to ever break the second commandment, it would be because of you.
I grew up hearing stories of my cousins in Canada microwaving cats and during the winter months, leaving them in cages outside. Crazy Canadians and their messed up teeth.
No animal should ever jump up on the furniture unless absolutely certain that he can hold his own in the conversation.
-- Fran Lebowitz
What was that cat's name again? It was something lame like "fluffy" or "tiger" or something, right?
I never trust the food in a home where the cat is free to roam when the owners are out. Have you ever seen a home that has 13 cats living in it, having the run of the place, 8 hours a day?
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