Most of you have seen how Sasha dominates the critters around here. Today that attitude came back and bit her on the. . . well, you'll see.

Last night I made a big pot of Texas chili, featuring lots of cayenne pepper. To me, if it doesn't bring tears to your eyes and cause you to consume large quantities of ice-cold beer, it is sadly lacking in content. Patty loves it that way, but to tell you the truth, it does come back to haunt us the next day.

Patty and I both ate quite a bit of it, but somewhere about the end of the second bowl, it began to pall. So I surreptitiously slid my bowl down under my seat for Mac to get.

Wouldn't you know it, that's when Sasha decided to pull one of her usuals and hog the whole thing for herself. Mac stood there quivering with indignation but was unwilling to subject himself to Sasha's wrath. Willoughby just sat there and licked his chops as she scarfed the whole thing down, growling and snarling all the while. With a hearty belch she retreated to the couch to let her ill-gotten meal settle.

This morning it was my turn to clean the litter pan. I removed the hood and carefully started scooping out the contents with a sifter especially made for this odious chore.

Suddenly Sasha came roaring in, ran under my hand, and squatted to relieve herself in the fresh litter. I sat back and waited. Just as things began proceeding normally, she stopped, turned her head, and screeched at her tochis. She spun around, trying to ascertain what was biting her. Hissing and baring her teeth brought no relief. As she continued doing her business, she halted several times to threaten her own butt, but she got no mercy. That cayenne pepper had returned.

I know how she felt. I've thought about doing the same thing myself a few times.

Copyright © David Yehudah
January 7, 2000