Back in September, I sent my sister, kitty mom to a certain orange tabby, a little something for her birthday. I wrapped it in tissue paper, placed it in a padded mailer -- the kind with built-in bubble wrap -- and sealed the whole works with packing tape.
The envelope reached its destination intact. But minutes after my sister got it through the door, Oliver had his claws and teeth in the paper. Utterly dismayed, Bev scolded him and took the gift away, placing it where she hoped it would be out of reach. Undeterred, Oliver snatched the quarry back and reattempted to unsheath its contents.
What had gotten into her naughty boy, Bev wondered, grabbing the tattered paper before he could do even more damage. And then it dawned on her ...
"That birthday present you sent me doesn't happen to contain catnip does it?" she asked by phone, persistent yowls echoing in the background.
Of course it did -- in the form of hand-sewn toys. All was forgiven (on both sides) once the goods came out of their wrappings. Here's the proof:
2 days ago