When you’re in culinary school, you can say, “The dog ate my homework.” There’s a good chance she has. I brought home some honey wheat rolls the other day and made the mistake of leaving them on the kitchen counter while my mate and I scooted out to run a quick errand. Rascal has been pretty good about not counter-surfing for food lately, but apparently the temptation was too much. When we drove up to the house, there was Rascal in the window, a honey wheat roll in her mouth and tail waggin’. She’d gobbled, like, seven rolls in the space of 10 minutes.
But the cat?
Our cat Moe is a tiny little white kitty, weighing all of about 7 pounds. At 15 (we think), he’s pretty elderly. He’s always had a thing for baked goods. In his younger days, more than once, he swiped a loaf of bread, dragged it off, and clawed open the packaging, and nibbled away.
Apparently, age and frailty haven’t made a dent in his passion for breads, cakes, and muffins. The same day Rascal decimated the wheat rolls, Moe joined the fun. A few days later, I brought home a gorgeous brioche a tete, which I left tightly wrapped in plastic on the kitchen counter. It had disappeared the following morning, and I assumed my brother, who was visiting and really likes brioche had eaten it. Nope. Moe had stolen into the kitchen in the dark of night, snagged the thing (which was about as big as he is), and dragged it to another room and ate it. In a rare case of inter-species cooperation, Rascal polished the remains off in the morning.