Do you REALLY want to eat that?

Remember Stray Cat Strut? "He's got cat class and he's got cat styyyyyyle."

Pounce is gi-normous gray tabby with a very distinguished white goatee and tuxedo markings on his chest. If this were the 1930's, his paws would be all about the spats. Simply put, he is the Fred Astaire of the feline world, sans top hat and cane and leading lady . . . but I'm sure there is a graceful cat out there somewhere who would play the Ginger to his Fred.

OH he's got style, but maybe not so much on the class. I hate to burst his suave and debonaire bubble, but he's a bit of a doofus. I've been sitting on the couch with a cold and general malaise for the past two days. In that time frame, I've observed this well-fed cat who eats prescription gourmet cat food, attempt to consume people-vitamins, coffee with milk, tea with honey, cranberry juice, pizza AND carrot cake, a metal fixing from jewelry making supplies, a small wire, a glass bead and several scraps of carpet lint. He did manage to scarf down a feathery bit of plastic from a grocery bag, which promptly came back up. Yay. That's always fun.

(So here's the part where I admit I talk to animals. And they talk back?)

Me (in disbelief) : Do you really want to chew on my plants?
Pounce (in all earnestness): Yes. I do. I really do want to mangle the leaves, then eat them. And I'd like it if you'd stop telling me not to play with my food. I'm a CAT. It's what I do.

Oy. Cats these days.