Asparagus is Not a Toy

Any kitten owner will tell you that life is endlessly entertaining with a little monster around. Bill The Cat is no exception. First of all, he has two speeds – completely insane, and dead. When he is awake, he’s a holy terror. He rips around the house as an orange blur, a five-pound thundering herd of cat. Then when he stops, he stops. Sometimes we find him asleep on the floor, toy still in his paws, passed out mid-play. When you walk by, he wakes up, chirps out a “blrrr?” noise and passes out again.

Lately he’s found the most amazing toy box – our trash bins. We’re constantly finding him playing with items that we had placed in the trash. It’s not enough that the dogs think our trash is the best ever, but now we’ve got an infinately more agile cat who considers our castoffs his persosnal treasure trove. Everything is fair game – used tissues, mandarin peels, avocado skins. Last night we saw the little orange monster running around bringing death to something long and green. It was a piece of asparagus that didn’t make the cut for dinner. Upon seeing this, Beau Hunk to yelled out “Bill, asparagus is not a toy!” Add that to the list of things you thought you’d never say out loud. (At least while sober.)

Bill has finally killed all but one of my houseplants. The lone survivor was a gift from my former co-workers. It is a duplicate of a cactus that I procured for my boss’ office. The original cactus is six feet tall, and was abandoned in a dark and deserted office. I got permission to take the plant and with the help of my boss, moved it to his sunny office. The cactus immediately went into a growth spurt beyond imagination, quickly adding another foot to its height. This effort earned the plant the moniker of “Spike the Wonder Cactus”. When I left my job, my boss and another co-worker tried to give me a piece of Spike, but were unable to do so without injury to the original. So instead they gave me a small desk-sized cactus of the same species as a gift. I call it “Spike Alike”. Spike Alike is now my sole living houseplant.

Bill The Cat has made several attempts at Spike Alike’s life – the last resulted in him being left root-naked in the kitchen sink, surrounded by his soil. I replanted him, and so far, he’s managed to survive the assassination attempt. Bill has left him alone since then, I’m not sure if he admires the spirit of the little plant, or got bit by a cactus prickle and now knows better than to mess with the likes of a Spike Alike.

At any rate, the lack of vegetation has left Bill searching elsewhere for his amusement, which now includes the garbage. At this point I feel glad that he hasn’t developed an affinity for coffee grounds. All we need around here is him wired on caffeine and spreading the grounds all over the new carpet. Were that to happen, I’m afraid he might burn through those nine lives in a hurry.

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