We’ve gone 11 years without cat treats in our life; Brenna never even gave them a second sniff. Then Marney, one of my oldest and dearest friends gave Brenna a bag of Temptations as a gift. I really have no love for Marney or Brenna today. I’d love to put my hands around both of their necks. I’ve been giving Brenna one of these treats occasionally, because they are the only ones she has ever gone head over paws over, and come running for at the sound of the bag being opened. No more. The little bitch got up on the counter last night and knocked over my new Crosby & Taylor crock, in which I had sneakily placed the now forever banned treats. This crock was not cheap, it was something I was very happy to purchase, and it was specially made for me after speaking with someone at the company about what exactly it was that I was looking for. I will most likely send them an email, with pictures of course, asking for another to be made if possible. However, seeing as Brenna is such a conniving and destructive bitch, I fear that she will now assume every crock in the world contains goodies, which will lead to her gleefully pawing each one off of its high surface, in search of tempting treat bags she can rip open. Yet again, I would have the joy of coming down to the site of broken crockery, treats, and torn pieces of packaging scattered across the entire kitchen floor. Never again shall treats enter this house. If they are given as a gift, I will smile politely and say thank you, and as soon as the gift giver is gone I will chuck those things in the trash so fast that Brenna won’t even know they were there. The trash can outside of course. There is a huge piece of my head and my heart that is almost singing in joy today, because it just so happens that this morning is the day Brenna gets to take her yearly trip to the vet. Justice comes in many forms. Take that you little bitch.
