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Meet my beloved kleptomaniac cat
I don’t have the brainpower to write about any global, national, or local issue whatsoever. Can I just tell you about my cat instead?
Imagine, if you will, the softest gray tabby, with dainty white paws and eyes that give Amanda Seyfried a run for her money. She is the sweetest, cuddliest lil button you’ve ever met, who purrs like a jet engine while sleeping in your lap. Her name is quite fittingly “Sugar.”
Now imagine that she’s an incorrigible little thief. And a genius.
This is an incomplete list of things Sugar has stolen:
• Yarn
• Hair ties
• An entire half-frozen chicken breast
• A package of bagels
• Toys from other cats
• Food from other cats
• Yarn again, this time while I’m crocheting
• Twist ties
• A shirt
• Shoes
• Leaves from houseplants
• Yet more yarn, from its hiding spot on the top shelf of my closet
• My heart
• And the hearts of several staff at Hillcrest Animal Hospital
• Should I add my apartment to this list? Probably. She sort of invited herself in and never left.
The food thefts are a real problem because Sugar is allergic to most terrestrial, aerial and aquatic animals, so she is only allowed to eat hypoallergenic food. Chicken is the worst culprit, so naturally she zeros in on it like a shark.
Have you ever restrained a squirming, nine-and-a-half-pound cat with one arm while trying to tear the leg off a rotisserie chicken with the other? It gives you a new appreciation for your prehistoric ancestors keeping sabertooth tigers off their mammoth leftovers.
I adore Sugar. She has more personality than can be safely contained in her little, furry body. She’s leash trained and loves to greet my neighbors. If she could ride in a backpack with me to work we’d both be thrilled, but the publisher says no animal mascots.
Maybe I should bring her along anyway. Surely Mr. Pruett can’t say no to that face.
Samantha Tucker is a staff writer at the Daily American Republic. She can be reached at stucker.dar@gmail.com.
This column was updated at 9:13 a.m. March 29, 2023.
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