Tink

All day yesterday I was craving mashed potatoes and gravy. I'm one of these people who constantly crave food and will go to great lengths to get whatever it is that I am craving (if possible). So upon returning home, at the end of what seemed a very slow day, I set out to make the food I so desperately longed for. I further decided that seeing as I was going to the trouble of cooking, it really wouldn't be anymore inconvenient to cook some sausages for my husband, who is quite fond of bangers and mash (I'm a vegetarian so have no real interest in the sausages), and a couple sausages for the cats. So I peeled, chopped, fried and mashed away, cooking up a storm. During this time three of my cats had gathered into the kitchen hoping that I would be generous and give them some goodies. But I was determined to ignore they're pleading looks, they would have to wait until the other three cats (I have a total of six) came back, so that they could all eat together and get equal portions.

By the time the food was cooked I was absolutely starving. So I quickly grabbed a bowl, dished out some mashed potatoes and gravy then plopped in front of the TV to enjoy this long awaited meal. Mmmm... delicious it was... I was ready for seconds. So, as soon as the next ad break came on, I dashed to the kitchen to quickly serve myself some more when .... well you can guess what I found. Tink, who I suspect to be leader of the food snatching pack, had dragged the biggest sausage from the stove top and was guarding it with her life. The other two cats had made off with a sausage each. One of the cats (likely to be the ring leader, Tink) had decided to stand in the pan of gravy, probably while reaching over to grab a sausage, then did a little gravy pawed dance in front of the stove, leaving tell-tale gravy paw prints.

Well that was that. I gave the remaining sausages to the other three cats and broke the bad news to my husband. I did however put an end to my craving, which, to be honest, was all that really mattered to me.

Copyright © Dewi Williams
January 19, 2000