Bubba has gotten so big that he can stand on the floor and eat from the kitchen table. I know that because he tries. He stole a piece of toast from me yesterday. Like a flash, he was headed for the stairs with it. Keep in mind that if I offer him food from the table, he will turn it down.
As compared to Ella and any other cat that I have had since the 1970s, Bubba is huge but he still has a kitten voice, and he never stops playing. He shreds my arms and when I won't let him abuse me, he picks on Ella, plays with his toys, or just runs around the house like a galloping horse. He has such a happy face on him when he's playing, and I love it. He is so strange, though. Sometimes he doesn't eat his canned food. If there's not enough of it to take outside for the feral and stray cats, I will dump it into my compost box to be taken outside. Then he rummages through the compost box and eats the same food he wouldn't touch before. Although he wouldn't eat it when it was fresh out of the can and in his bowl, and he won't come back for it a couple of hours later when it's not so fresh, he'll dig it out of the trash and eat it after I have thrown it into a compost box with coffee grounds, shredded paper, and other stuff.
Ken if we could figure out cats life might be a little boring. There here to challenge us into thinking or wondering what is going on in their heads .
I know that I've said that we didn't have a lot of crime in Millinocket. Apparently, I was wrong, however. Someone pried open the drawer where I keep the cat treats, illegally removed a pouch of treats from that drawer, and then proceeded to open that pouch using a tool that resembles cat teeth, then consumed the stolen property. Neither Ella nor Bubba has a clue as to who might have been responsible.
Except that the thief neglected to close the drawer back up and left the chewed-up empty pouch on the floor.