My dumb cat

I want to kill Westley. Not really, but, yeah, sometimes more than usual of late.

He tasted mexican-flavored beef that I'd dropped in Brindy's bowl -- a tiny leftover bit she could snarf up as a treat. Except for once Westley got there first. Next thing I knew he'd perched on the edge of the kitchen sink, a stunt he hasn't attempted in years. He licked some remaining beef crumbs in the pan before I said, "WESTLEY."

Since then, my brilliant feline pet has refused to nibble his Purina One. Instead he hangs around Brindy's dish, puffing little meows at me. "Give...me...more...beef." He's tasted bits of dog food. I think he's gotten thinner.

Oh, well. Want a new idea for helping your pudgy kitty slim down? Feed him taco meat and wait.

Urgh.

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