Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Crackhead Kitty

For many years, we used canned milk instead of cream in our coffee (evaporated milk, not the sweetened condensed stuff). Then a few years ago, we switched to half-and-half; I’m not sure why we changed. Then several months ago, Ron decided he wanted to go back to canned milk; I think it’s a little lower in fat than half-and-half. I tried to switch, too, but I found that after using half-and-half, I couldn’t go back. I just didn’t like the taste of the canned milk anymore.

Satchmo joined our family during the time we both used half-and-half. He enjoyed the occasional spoonful or so of it, but he wasn’t demanding or anything. That all changed when Ron went back to canned milk. Satchmo had a little taste of it and he was an instant addict. It was like crack, or maybe meth; one of his nicknames became Crackhead Kitty. A cat can never have too many nicknames!

When anyone opens the fridge, if Satchmo is anywhere in the vicinity, he hops up on to the counter next to his food bowl and begins yowling incessantly. If Ron is getting out the canned milk or even if I’m getting out the half-and-half, the yowling becomes louder and more insistent. And of course, enablers that we are, we give him a tiny splash, a spoonful or so. When Ron is finished using the canned milk, he has to put it back in the fridge immediately, or disaster will strike. We use the type of can opener that leaves two triangle-shaped holes in the top of the can. Satchmo doesn’t knock the can over like the late, great Winston did (a less yowly crackhead kitty). No, Satchmo manages to pick up the can by the edges with his teeth and shake his head a few times, sending the milk flying. He licks up the damage, then takes a nap until he hears the fridge open again.

Satchmo Sleeping It Off


Barbara said...

That's so funny about him being able to grab the can with his teeth. Such a clever cat!

This reminded me of how I used to try like mad to avoid waking Christopher up when he was sleeping (because he was so demanding of my attention when he was awake and indoors). And since the sound of the can opener meant CAT FOOD(!), if I was opening cans for other things--cans of tomatoes for cooking, a can of soup for lunch--and he was in the house and napping, I would do things like take the can and can opener into the bathroom, shut the door, turn on the water, and hope that the sound of running water would mask the can opener sound. Or take the can outside and open it there.

When I was somewhere else, such as Mom's house, it always felt so cool and almost daring to just open a can and not have to worry about getting nagged incessantly by a cat. It was a few years after he died before I stopped mentally cringing when I opened a can.

Beth said...

Going into the bathroom and turning on the water to avoid waking Chris? Now that's funny!

And it's funny that opening a can at Mom's would feel daring.