I consider myself a pretty aware cat owner.
Bella and I have lived together for over 10 years and I have learned all of her little quirks. I realize that under my couch and washing machine there are probably two dozen ink pens. She will chase the red dot from a laser pointer around my living room for hours. Cat nip makes her go insane. She prefers water flowing from a faucet over water in her bowl.
But last night I had an apparent lapse in memory and it cost an egg it’s life.
Yesterday afternoon I hard boiled some eggs on the stove top to decorate for Easter (yes I am in my thirties and I still love decorating Easter eggs). They sat in the water until I went to bed last night when I put a dish cloth on the counter and laid them all out to dry.
I don’t know WHY it didn’t occur to me that 12 small, round movable objects were just going to be too much for her cat brain to resist. Looking back at those perfectly shaped eggs they SHOULD have just seemed like 12 perfect cat toys.
But alas when I awoke this morning I found one in the middle of the kitchen floor- it’s perfectly dye able shell now cracked into a million pieces.
And I was surprised.
I supposed it’s nice that after 12 years my little furry friend can surprise me. Keeps the “romance” alive.
But it also means when I decorate eggs today I will only have 11.
Rest In Peace little egg that I had with salt for breakfast this morning.