Monday, August 30, 2010

Thriller

As a friend told me long ago, there is nothing like lying there in the still of the night, wrapped in the glorious darkness, listening to a cat heave and knowing you can't get there in time. That's what they get for insisting on elk meat. The thrill of it is rolling over and realizing they were sitting on your pillow.

Although I don't know why I am whining: I once had a litter you would think had been raised on unicorn meat. God, THAT was hard to shop for. However, the orphans I have now have a good idea that I will do just about anything to get them to eat. There is no catnip fudge I know of to persuade them to eat all they can, although in high school, we had a variety that worked really well for humans...hmmm.

The orphans were raised on organic goat milk and a supplement engagingly called, "Tiny Tiger." Since then, their tastes have become even more esoteric. I know where the best deals are on organic buffalo meat: I'll bet if they sold ostrich cutlets in the Roanoke Valley, I would be first in line...

I wonder if Schwann's sells ostrich meat? 

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