Some cats have very distinguished tastes. My parents cat, while enjoying the taste of raw birds and mice, also enjoys barbequed meat, especially chicken breast and steak. Other cats prefer fancy cat food. My cat? Not so much.

Last night, I heard banging. I go out to the kitchen and he's standing there, two paws on a chair, two on the floor (imaging him leaning on a bar or something). When he saw me, he ran under the kitchen table. I noticed that the garbage lid had fallen into the garbage. I fixed it and went back to bed.

When I get back into bed, I hear the same banging sound. I wake D. and ask him if he had something to eat. He had. We both knew from there what the cat was after. D. went out and covered the garbage with old newspaper. The cat was foiled.

What had D. eaten? A bologna sandwich. What was the cat after? Not left over bologna. The skins that it's wrapped in. The waxy string that is taken off of it.

There's very little bologna on these strings. But he loves them. We found this out when we found a red and blue poo in his litter box - apparently they don't digest well (they're red and blue and white wax from the logo being printed on them). Whenever D. eats any, he has to hide the skins.

My cat is a freak.

In other news, I bought some pajamas. They're huge. Absolutely huge. Like, if I wear a large, they're 3x. The shirt goes around me once and a half. The pants give me a bum like d.s cat bea - a pirate bum (picture a really fuzzy cat with a really poofy bum). They're soooooo comfy. And they give me room to grow. Both me and the baby will fit in them fine. And perhaps D. and Ollie and a pack of bologna skins. Or two.

Yep. Cats a freak and my pjs are huge on me. Life is good. Gotta go watch Xena and relax and rest my lungs.

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