Tuesday, August 19, 2008

The Genius Judas Goat

So she called early this morning and asked if she could come and get the cats.
"Sure." I said.
I should tell you all that one of the cats, Ruby, is about as wild a cat can be and still be a housecat. She will allow L to give her a drip of ice cream on the carton lid, but not to stroke her back. I am allowed (after months of training) to pet her head and rub her back, but only two to four times. Neither of us has ever picked Ruby up, not that she would allow such a humiliating experience to occur. We often said if there was a fire, we would grab Max (the other cat who thinks it is her job to be petted.), the Suzie Orman Big Book of Your Most Important Crap and the hidden money stash. Ruby would be left to fend for herself.

I didn't want there to be any problems. I wanted the kitties to be okay. So, for the past two nights when I fed them, I put the food bowls inside the cat carriers. Nothing doing for the first five minutes from Ruby, but Max happily gobbled hers and then, backing out, headed over to the other carrier to see what was up. Ruby, uh, elbowed her out of the way and streeetched inside the carrier to get to the food, leaving her hindend outside. I knew that wouldn't work.

As luck would have it, I was roasting a chicken. As soon as it was done, I took many chunks of chicken leg over to the carriers and, as soon as a cat arrived, I would toss the piece waaaaay into the carrier. Like a charm, my friend, Ruby went all the way, time after time after time. Then I tried it with Kitty Fish Treats. Um. Not so much. Lots of hesitation and giving me the eyeball, so it was back to thigh meat. Yes. I am the Judas Goat.

So I told L how to hold the chicken piece where the Rube could see it and toss it way in.

The cats were gone when I got home and there was a nice note saying that I was a genius. duh.

==
On my bookcase there is a little clear box containing a copper belt buckle and a jade heart charm my father made in his "metal-working as a hobby"life. It now also contains my wedding ring. I haven't had that ring off more than five times in twenty years. I hadn't had it off for five minutes when my left thumb started asking my third finger where it was.

It will take some getting used to.

Joe(so will all this quiet.)Nation

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