This is a Story

It is Saturday morning, and we all need some light reading. The head is foggy because you haven't yet had a full cup of coffee and you might still be stuffed from eating too much Indian food the night before (but it was sooooooo good!). Oh wait, that's my life I am telling you about. Either way, this is a story about a cat and his love affair with a toy. Meet Finn (if you haven't already).

Say hello to Finn's toy. (Ignore the dog hair on the floor. It's the latest home decor craze, didn't you know? And nearly impossible to get rid of.)

That doesn't look like a toy, you say? Well clearly you haven't had a cat before if that doesn't look like a toy. That, my friends, is a mangled plastic spout from a half and half container. It was ripped out of the container by Lilah, our resident chocolate lab, about six months ago. And from that moment on, it has been Finn's favorite toy.

Finn spent three months obsessing over this toy. It was by his side at all times. He would even cuddle with it while he would sleep.

He would carry the toy in his mouth around the house everywhere he went. He could not leave this toy out of his sight. Sometimes, he would lose the toy under the pantry or bedroom door and he would wait patiently by the door until we would open it for him so he could retrieve his beloved toy.

Then the tragic happened. After three months of his love affair with this toy, the toy suddenly vanished, nowhere to be found. We checked the pantry and the bedroom closets-- the usual culprits. For over a week, every time we would go near the pantry or bedroom closets, Finn would sit anxiously by the door awaiting the retrieval of his toy to no avail.  Finally, he gave up and two months later he found a new toy-- a red ring from an apple cider jug. This toy became a mediocre replacement for a few days until he gave up on it. We even tried to give him a new half and half container spout, but he didn't want it.

Five days ago, a miracle happened. Finn's favorite toy emerged from inside the box of garbage bags sitting in the pantry. How it got into the box in the first place is a mystery. However, the only thing that matters to Finn is that he has his toy back. He's back to his old obsessive ways-- pushing the toy under the pantry door, waiting for you to open the pantry door, and then swiping around the corner to retrieve his toy.

He carries it in his mouth, drops it next to Andrew's shoes, and stalks it from a distance before pouncing and going in for the kill.

And when he's not playing with his toy, he keeps an eye on it to make sure it is still there.

 And that, dear readers, is the story of Finn's love affair with a plastic spout from a half and half container. (I think our cat might need some psychiatric help.) The end.