We have lost a duck leg. It’s been missing for three days and we are starting to worry.

What the hell am I talking about, you might be asking. Excellent question. Let me explain. We put the cats on a diet recently. They have become a little pudgy (at least that is what the vet thinks. I think it’s cute. I mean, a belly on a man – not so great. A belly on a cat…great!).

In any event, they are now on diets.

They are fighters, my cats. They don’t take deprivation well (they take after their mother. (That would be me.). The other night we ordered Chinese food and one dish came with a duck drumstick. We picked the meat off, and took our plates to the table. We ate in peace. We went to the kitchen to clean up. No duck bone. No duck bone to be seen, but two guilty looking, lip-smacking cats were sitting right near the scene of the crime.

We have been unable to find the evidence. You can imagine, this is pretty nasty. A missing duck bone somewhere in my house? Gross. We won’t be having guests anytime soon…“Oh look what I found in your couch, a piece of animal carcass.” Foul (pardon the poultry pun). If you think about it, since the cats tend to not like guests, this was a highly sophisticated form of retaliation against the diet we imposed on them.

This is what our life with the cats has come to. Perhaps it’s time to have kids. Or get a dog. Neither will be as smart as the cats…at least not for a few years.

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