Our nice kitty, Sera, has a thing for chicken. She really, really loves it.
A couple of weeks ago I stumbled across cat treats at Walmart that are just freeze dried chunks of chicken. I bought them and promptly forgot about them. Yesterday I remembered that I had them and offered them to our cats. They both turned up their noses and the treats remained uneaten. "That was a bust," I thought as I cleaned them up and forgot about it.
A few hours later, at 2 a.m., Sera started screaming in our bedroom waking both hubby and I from sleep. She just wouldn't stop. So I put my hands on the floor to try and pet her. And my hands touched something plastic.
"Oh my God," I exclaimed. At this point I'm pretty sure hubby thought Sera had brought me a dead mouse. Thankfully, she had just brought me the package of chicken treats, that she had grabbed off the kitchen counter and dragged up two flights of stairs, and was insisting that I give her a treat right away.
I don't negotiate with terrorists so I just put the treat package in my nightstand and went back to sleep. Or tried to. Sera kept trying to get the package. After 30 minutes of this I finally relented and gave her some treats. And was woken every hour or so by the cat trying to get more treats.
It's cat crack.