Even though I know my cat gives new meaning to the term "hedonistic layabout" I far, far and away prefer him to the little dirtbag doggies I have to care for at my new clients' house. These little darlings are total con artists and food moochers. Last night I took my homemade foccacia bread and some sundried tomato basil pesto along to make grilled panini sandwiches for dinner, along with some steamed asparagus and an avocado saladine* in champagne dressing. These folks have a professional Wolf range with the Griddle in the Middle, so how happy am I? If they only had UTENSILS. I scoured that kitchen for a vegetable/potato peeler. None was to be found. Although they eat ice cream every night of their lives, there is no evidence that they posses an ice cream scooper. My guess is the Lhasa Apsos ate it. These little guys ignored me for the first few days I worked there, until finally it dawned on them I was another source for a potential handout. From then on out it was 'hairy-footstools-underfoot' in the kitchen!
*foo-foo talk for wee salad
Last night, as I was slicing and dicing, mixing and fixing, I would toss little bits of deli ham, paper-thin swiss, and bread crusts into their greasy gaping maws. If a crumb actually made it to the floor, it was instantly Hoovered up by a wet snout. When I actually had to start grilling the panini, I was given such looks of utter disbelief you cannot imagine! Shock and Fear of Starvation were written upon their little furrowed brows. If they could have manifested bloating and edema around the ankles in a bid for more food, they would have. As I served their Human Hosts this delicious gourmet meal, I noticed an absence of dog snurfles around my feet and then saw that they had already taken up their position by their masters' chairs! I stood in the kitchen, helpless to intervene, as Mrs. Humanhost tossed giant bites of grilled-to-perfection homemade foccacia bread swiss and ham and sundried tomato pesto panini into greedy little dog faces. As I was redding** up the table I had the mini-moochers in attendance once again. I fed them every scrap that was left, including letting them lick the ice cream dishes. Obviously they were still hungry! Probably hadn't had a bite to eat in 15 or 16 seconds. As I was loading the dishwasher I heard the unmistakable sounds of crunching and munching dog kibble, and turned around to see the dear little beasties chowing down a REAL dinner from their food bowls. They definitely know how to clean up their plates!
**Hoosier for 'readying' or clearing up the table
The reason these little beggars are not obese is because in the course of their nightly walk, which I have to take them on, they poop out 47 times their weight in excess snacks. Is it any wonder I just love my darling litter box trained, self-cleaning, non-mooching, wont-touch-human-food-if-you-paid-him-in-catnip cat?