Speaking of cats y'all brought back tales of my namesake Puff (aka Puff the beast).
My first quick recall was about the time I had the turkey soaking in the sink full of water. I walked into the kitchen and found him with his fangs deeply embedded in the backbone of the bird. Once the bird was roasted the holes and the ripped skin was not at all noticeable.
Then there's the pumpkin pie issue - not pumpkin pie itself, it was the whipped cream. I swear on a stack of bibles he knew the sound of the cap being popped off the can of the whipped cream. By the time the fridge door closed he was meowing at your feet.
Then there was the time I came back into kitchen and found Puff with my entire fried trout on the floor munching away! "What didn't make this for me"? Threw it out; I wasn't going to eat it and he sure wasn't going to be treated.
Last story - a tale of the holiday season. So many ways of getting into trouble. .
While most of my makings were in the backroom I learned to "hide" goodies back there. I also learned to close the door to keep my whiskered friend from tasting, especially the cookies. Came home from work at one time to find a trail of vomitted pecans down the hallway carpet. He got to a bag, ripped it open, and finished at least half the bag. Now I had to clean the carpet, go shopping for nuts, and vacuum the back room. All because I forgot to make sure the door clicked shut. Ah, but wait. . .it was soon after that as I was seated in the kitchen
that there was a noise
? What he heck?? It was Puff who had learned that if he grabbed/hit the gold handle thing his weight would then also open the door.
Puff the beast - what a character, also sometimes known as the smart a$$.
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