I think my fluffy white cat who is our evil overlord wants to pretend he’s a vampire. He’s got the teeth for it. He’s got the sneakiness. And evidently, he’s been reading those vampire novels where the up-to-date modern nosferatu avoids detection by making do with tomato juice.
He has weird tastes. He’ll ignore cream and lap up maple syrup. Sardines hold no interest for him. Still he surprises me, like when he jumped up and pounced on this unguarded glass of tomato juice. Because he is so evil, he gets away with anything that amazes me enough. Like drinking a whole glass of tomato juice.
Yum?
Writing Every Day 