Further to the fridge

[desperance]

Did I ever tell y'all about Boris?

Boris was a cat with two souls. One of them was the sweetest kitty-cat who ever lived, who would sit on you for ever if you didn't move and suckle your jumper and like that.

T'other was a big bad back-alley bruiser, the original ruffy-tuffy street-fightin' kitty; after spending all day being cutesy, he'd go out all night and beat up any other boy-cat on his territory, and come home bearing his scars with pride. (Until he got old, when he'd kinda slink home in bloody defeat - but he still went out to fight, because his little cat-brain never caught up with the fact that he really couldn't do it any more. Kinda like those heavyweight prizefighters who keep making comebacks, and losing, and losing again...)

Anyway. Boris and the fridge. Boris liked chicken; the chicken was in the fridge. Boris learned to open the fridge.

The bungee-cord went round the fridge; Boris learned to unhook the bungee-cord and get the chicken. (Actually, I have told you this story before; I remember asking what the proper word was for bungee, and we decided bungee was the word. Never mind. It's an anecdote; it's always better for repeating.)

The child-lock went on the fridge; Boris broke the child lock, opened the fridge and got the chicken.

Lastly, in despair, the chicken was left in the oven overnight.

Guess what?

Yup. Boris learned to open the oven. Smart little cat-brain (except in the matter of fights, and retirement...)

Comments

[lamentables.livejournal.com]

I think it could be an unexpected side effect of our eschewing meat, that the cats of the household have never shown any interest in opening the fridge. Tabitha worked out how to turn up the stereo when her favourite music is on, so I'm sure she has the smarts to figure out a fridge, but she displays no interest.

It's probably a good job that Lucy doesn't have so many smarts, because her interest in human food is mostly restricted to red wine, and there's an unprotected wine rack in the dining room.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

All cats are unusual, but some ... are more unusual than others.

My Mac, of course, would be just as keen to get into your fridge - vegetubbles! Macs like vegetubbles!

Turning up the stereo, though? Now I'm impressed...

And Sophie liked a little red wine on occasion - or beer; just not spirits, thank you - but the boys are bizarrely not interested in alcohol. They just haven't twigged, I think, how much trouble they could cause if they were pissed in charge of paws. It's probably a good thing.

[bellinghman.livejournal.com]

Boris didn't have any Burmese in him, did he? Because that breed does tend to be soemwhat of a street bully.

[badbookworm.livejournal.com]

My old cat used to steal kippers out from underneath the grill. More than once I thought I had lost the ability to count. He would also curl his tail around the stem of a glass of red wine and pull it onto the floor.

"Oh dear, look what's happened. Let me clear that up for you - shlurp shlurp shlurp..."

The current crazy old boy, as you can see from one of today's journal entries, uses "leap into the middle of the plate and grab what you can" tactics. Less sophisticated, but let's face it - it's nice to feel like the cat hasn't actually *outwitted* you.

[glinda-w.livejournal.com]

Oh my. I've had smart cats, but that... scary.

*looks around to make sure Annie isn't reading this post over my shoulder*

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Ah, how well I know that feeling. Witness the amount of time I spend trying to persuade myself that no, it was just coincidence, I must've left the fridge door open when there were sossidges! inside...

[badbookworm.livejournal.com]

If they ever develop opposable thumbs, we're doomed.