It started this weekend. I had left a batch of muffins to cool on the kitchen island. I came back 15 minutes later to find tiny punctures in the tops of Every One. I left a half-loaf of bread wrapped in foil on the counter. For TEN minutes. It looked like a sieve. This morning, having packed my lunch, I went into the bedroom to change into barn clothes. I came out to find...my dessert was missing. Mind you, this was a slab of Whole Wheat Bread with Raisins. With a recipe that calls for two cups of molasses, even a smallish portion of it weighed a good pound. I immediately headed back to the lair and found it wedged under a table, with the corner of the plastic bag chewed off and, yes, fang marks on my dessert. I snatched it from Kramer's jaws and put it in another zip baggy and double bagged the lunch and put it in my tote. If I could have padlocked it, I would have. Do kittens go through a teething stage?
I related the sordid events to a friend, who was horrified that I just went ahead and ate the kitten-ravaged dessert. I decided not to tell her about my finding a nice, fat caterpillar on top of last week's salad and saving it for my chickens, whilst (;o) I ate the greens.