Story time!
When I lived in Russia (think 1996 era) our first cat was a stray by the name of Tiger. My father maintains that this cat was possessed by supernatural influences, and he is probably right. The first adjective that anyone ever associates with Tiger is always "EVIL". Tiger liked to lay in wait for us in hard-to-see places, destroy random objects, ambush my sister and bite her on the ankle, and enact other adorable displays of affection.
For some reason, I got to thinking today of one of Tiger's more entertaining exploits: stealing food. Apparently the "Whiskas" we provided him with wasn't up to par; he wanted our food. My Mom would sometimes make a big pot of borsch (Russian soup) and leave it on the table to cool overnight. This was irresistible for Tiger, and we constantly had to take measures to keep our soup whisker-free.
So one night my Dad is settled peacefully into bed when suddenly he hears a noise from the kitchen. Sounds like a lid being pushed aside. So he gets out of bed and starts down the hall toward the kitchen. On our floors, you can hear when people walk--you can usually hear when Tiger walks. Just as he gets to the door, he hears a thump sound, and there's Tiger sitting calmly on the floor with the most innocent expression on his face, obviously thinking: I wasn't on the table! You cannot prove I was on the table, and the lid is ajar and there's this big wet orange ring on his face.
I miss that cat. He was evil, but he was so much fun.
For some reason, I got to thinking today of one of Tiger's more entertaining exploits: stealing food. Apparently the "Whiskas" we provided him with wasn't up to par; he wanted our food. My Mom would sometimes make a big pot of borsch (Russian soup) and leave it on the table to cool overnight. This was irresistible for Tiger, and we constantly had to take measures to keep our soup whisker-free.
So one night my Dad is settled peacefully into bed when suddenly he hears a noise from the kitchen. Sounds like a lid being pushed aside. So he gets out of bed and starts down the hall toward the kitchen. On our floors, you can hear when people walk--you can usually hear when Tiger walks. Just as he gets to the door, he hears a thump sound, and there's Tiger sitting calmly on the floor with the most innocent expression on his face, obviously thinking: I wasn't on the table! You cannot prove I was on the table, and the lid is ajar and there's this big wet orange ring on his face.
I miss that cat. He was evil, but he was so much fun.