One of the most difficult trials of being the family cat, it watching quietly as your humans make the same miscalculations in judgement, all the while conveniently ignoring the results of the last mishap. Part of it stems from the unwavering optimism that this will end better and in spite of the fact, one has failed to conduct oneself any differently than on previous occasions, which ironically, also did not end well. So much for living and learning.
As a feline, I adhere to a strict diet of healthy prescription cat food designed to keep my kidneys on tip-top condition. Rarely, I have been known to indulge in a tablespoon of tuna, or lick an abandoned dinner plate discarded carelessly upon the coffee table. I usually adhere to a non organic diet void of fiber in any form. This little detail means not only am I built for speed, but a love-making machine as well. I have never emitted a butt cheek squeak when making time with the ladies.
The bipeds of the domicile have yet to learn the importance of removing all vegetable matter form their diets. Invariably, during the winter months, Missus Chica will surprise the Mister with a home cooked meal after he returns from the wiles of the lipstick urban jungle of business travel. Nothing says I love you, like soup made from scratch. It appears to be lovely gesture, hot soup, simmering on the stove for hours. The aroma of crushed red pepper, fresh rosemary, and sautéed garlic. As romantic as it sounds, sausage and lentil soup isn’t a very good aphrodisiac. Seduction for the taste buds, can lead to self-propelling oneself from the bed.
Nothing says long term marriage like fleeing the sofa to pass silent-but-deadlies, unless it’s not bothering to leave the sofa at all.
Posted by clawless 
Posted by clawless 
Posted by clawless 
