A baby picture taken just after she came to our home from the shelter, following the obligatory flea bath. She looked so angelic, who knew she'd grow up to be a *cat*?
	The current Clemmie, absorbed in the front-yard bird show. Since she's not allowed outdoors unsupervised, she has no idea of hunting - but she loves to watch!

Okay, so I bought these fancy "gourmet" cat treats: a buck-fifty, but I had a 50-cent coupon and Safeway doubled it, so my actual net outlay was only 50 cents, but Clementine doesn't know that, does she? She's supposed to be impressed by the elegant black pouch they came in and the fact that they're crunchy little pillows with creamy centers, "Roasted Chicken" flavored, and anyway, lately she's been willing to eat pretty much anything because she's been on a weight-loss regimen for almost a year now and she's ravenous all the time.

I brought them into the house and opened the package immediately, thinking to impress my darling with the depth of my devotion. Well, don't you know the ungrateful beast won't touch them? She did lick the first one I offered her and made a couple of half-hearted attempts to pick it up, but they're too big for her dainty little mouth, or something. The next day I tried them in our morning game, which involves skittering treats across the smooth kitchen and front hall floors so she can chase, capture and eat them. She chased and captured, but then perceived that what she had caught was one of the unworthy new treats; she gave me The Look over her shoulder, then turned 180 degrees and sat on the thing. I'm slow, but I get there eventually. I realize that Clemmie is Not Going To Eat these things. Darned Cat!

Postscript: I gave the rejected treats to a friend, who lives with one Supreme Being and two d-pets; Samantha Jane, orange tabby, sniffed them and made the "Are You Trying to Poison Me?!" face, but the d*gs consumed them with relish.

Copyright © Linda St.Laurence
June 15, 2001

Read Linda's story: Reach Out and Touch Someone