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30 January 2008 @ 07:04 pm
My one-eyed kitty is adorable. She’s loving and warm and playful and is all about snuggle time. When she’s curious, she tips her head to one side, whiskers curved forward winsomely. She gets on rather well with the older girls (who mostly ignore her, which is better than the outright hostility that poor Zinda dealt with for months) as well as the still-sorta-kitteny-cat (Esme and Zee have epic chases; they are awesome to behold). For the most part, kitteh has lovely manners. The pill in this jam? Esme goes after people food.

Don and I are working to break her of this habit. “Look at your sisters!” we say. “Note how they are most decidedly not trying to crawl over under our elbows that they might stick their faces in our plates!”

“First of all,” Esme replies, “I’m adopted. Secondly, foodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfood! *snarfle*”

It’s an ongoing struggle.

I get up early for work. I need to leave the house by six a.m. - quarter past at the latest - to get to work on time (read: at least five minutes early, ‘cause that’s how I roll). Now then. This morning: I’d already put together the day’s lunch; now all I needed was to make a sandwich that would suffice for breakfast and mid-morning snack, and all would be well. Early morning construction of the sandwich takes a bit longer than the same process at a more reasonable hour. Still, I toasted the whole wheat bagel, sliced red onion and tomato, cracked open the tub of sprouts and set to work compiling a turkey and swiss masterpiece.

Y’know how, every now and then, there are signs? Portents of the doom to come? My portent was mayonnaise. (Hush. I like mayo, in moderation. Don’t judge me.) I made the mistake of carrying it back to the refrigerator as I was replacing the lid. Somehow, that operation went awry, and the next thing I knew the mayonnaise jar was on the floor, sans lid, contents flung about the kitchen like that android ‘blood’ from Aliens. Naturally, Esme came rushing in to offer her assistance. I shooed her away (unsuccessfully) and then turned back to my beautiful sandwich. I wrapped it in foil and popped it into the cloth bag that already held my water, mug, box of tea and salad. Off to brush my teeth then, and when I returned to the kitchen not two minutes later...

The horror! Foil lay gaping open. Sprouts had rained down upon the better part of the kitchen floor, punctuated here and there with slivers of tomato and purple-hued onion. And right in the center of it all, crouched over half of a turkey-laden whole wheat bagel like a mountain lion over the carcass of a poor, slender deer, was Esme. Shoulders hunched, tail puffed to heretofore unseen levels, she was growling at a surprised Isabeau. “Miiiiiiiinnnnnne!” she snarled.

“...the.... fuck!” I managed.

Louder than I realized, because seconds later I heard Don’s sleepy voice from the bedroom. “What’s the matter!?”

“Our kitten ate my damned sandwich!” I snapped, scooping the culprit out of the way and gathering the poor remains of my masterpiece. Naturally, she dove back to protect what remained of her deer turkey. Just as naturally, I yelled, “No!” and all but booted her out of the kitchen. When she made moves to come back in, I stomped my foot at her. At last (read: I got all the turkey up) she hid in the hallway, watching from the doorway near the pantry.

I set to making another sandwich (you know this one wasn’t ever going to be as good) and finally left for work a good fifteen minutes after my go-time.

Before I left, I tried to find Esme to make sure she was all right. After all, it was the first time I’ve yelled at her... and she was nowhere to be found. Oh, kitty manipulation: she’s naughty, but manages to make me feel terrible by being all hiding and pathetic.
I feel: amusedamused - sort of
Julia: Gorey Catigraine120 on January 31st, 2008 12:35 am (UTC)
Hahahaha... aw. I have a cat just like her. I was eating a HAMBURGER one night when I made the mistake of getting up to get a drink. When I returned, her little paw was on top of the patty and she was looking up at me as if to say, "Oh, was this yours?"
Stealth Chaos Butterflybunnymcfoo on January 31st, 2008 02:34 am (UTC)
oh lord, now i'm craving a turkey and cheese with tomatoes and sprouts. sprooouts, om nom nom nom.

um. *toescuff* so kel, if i managed to oh, say, magically transport myself to the state of New York for a few days in say, May, would you by any chance be interested in visiting? because if i can get employed and fund the air faire, it looks like the plan is for me to go to a concert in NY city on the 7th, and I MISS YOU.
Kel: OMG!Ten/Fiveladyjoust on January 31st, 2008 02:43 am (UTC)

Stealth Chaos Butterflybunnymcfoo on January 31st, 2008 02:45 am (UTC)
YAYE!!! I mean, it's just as cheap for me to fly out for a week as it is for three days, and I thought HM WHO DO I KNOW AND LOVE AND MISS WHO LIVES IN NY? because sometimes i am smrt. :D

*clings to you liek woah*
Adrienne C.: Allieadrienne429 on January 31st, 2008 02:57 am (UTC)
I remember that Allie had this thing about cheese. As we cleared the dishes from a spaghetti dinner she would lick what was left of the romano cheese. And any time I had American cheese on a sandwich, she'd be a real pest until I broke up some in tiny pieces.

Ah, I miss her so....
Kel: kittykittyladyjoust on January 31st, 2008 03:43 am (UTC)
I know where you can get two one-eared kitties...

Mairearanturas on January 31st, 2008 03:02 am (UTC)
I'm sure she stalked the sandwich and proudly won the battle. And one thing I've always known (as I'm sure you do as well) cats have really, really short memories.... mine always seems to forget that I brought her to vet, or that she's not supposed to scratch the couch.....
Kel: 52 Jillyladyjoust on January 31st, 2008 03:04 am (UTC)
hee. My favorite is when you bring them back from the vet, and open the carrier... and they come running over to you for comfort. "Um... you do know that I drove you there, right? And then paid them to do all that stuff to you? "
Vampcurse: X3Beastvampcurse on January 31st, 2008 02:00 pm (UTC)
title or description

hee hee
Jared: Billcrimsontom on January 31st, 2008 04:44 pm (UTC)
I've got the same issue. The boys love to look at our food. We can't leave food on the stove top while we eat or they'll be investigating.
At elast Esme doesn't have an unnatural fetish for the sink. Sterling loves to jump on th counter and stare at the drain...waiting for the forces of doom to come up.
Ratesjul: ratesjulratesjul on January 31st, 2008 06:46 pm (UTC)
That sandwich sounds SO yummy!
Chad Dylan Cooper just stole my yogurt!faded_lilac on February 1st, 2008 03:47 am (UTC)
My cat does the same thing! Particularly when it comes to ice cream or macaroni and cheese, we have to watch out.