Wednesday, November 18, 2009

"You are your father's son,"

is what I told Brisket the kitten today. Many people may know that Jeff has some pack rat tendencies. And so does our kitten Brisket. How do I know? Read on.

I was in the chilly bedroom I share with Jeff, changing into my pjs before Top Chef started, when I noticed a dried oak leaf on the bed. This was clearly a plaything abandoned by one of the kittens following a supervised romp out of doors. Ever the efficient cat mom I picked up the leaf, walked around the bed to the wastebasket, and dropped the leaf in.

Alerted by the sound of his crinkling leaf, hoping perhaps that someone might want to play, Brisket darted into the bedroom and hopped onto the platform bed. And he immediately noticed that the leaf, which he apparently was storing on the brightly colored coverlet, was missing. He looked at me quizzically. "I'm sorry honey, but leaves don't live on beds," I told him as I turned my back to finish changing into the sleeping outfit.

Then I heard a crinkling sound and the distinctive sound of the tiny plastic barrel being tipped. I turned toward the sound and saw Brisket with his head in the garbage can, rummaging about. He grabbed the leaf and put it in a new storage place, on the floor in front of Jeff's bureau. Satisfied that he had saved the leaf cum toy from certain death in a landfill, he walked past me and out of the room.