Cooking with Monster

Many, if not most people, have a cooking partner.  Generally speaking, it is a human.  Mine is a mischievous four legged creature named Jean Lafitte, one of two cats to share my living space.  My older cat, Andrew Jackson, isn’t so much interested in cooking as he is inspecting any leftovers.  In the cat hierarchy, Jackson determined that Lafitte, aka Monster, is allowed the kitchen, the living room from 3-7pm Eastern and maybe sometimes part of the bedroom depending on Jackson’s whim.  Complicating this entire complex social pecking order is the fact that Lafitte is a “special needs kitty”.  Lafitte has the equivalent of cerebral palsy in cats.  His litter was dumped (Grrr!) but rescued by a no kill shelter.  I wound up with the first pick and this adorable monster kitten kept leaping up my jeans as I played with the kittens.  Well, as the PT Barnum saying goes, there is a sucker born every moment and Lafitte found his way home in short order.  Aside from an inability to walk a straight line, jump, run or generally have cat like reflexes, he is a pretty normal cat.  Meaning: he is a chatty opinionated creature who fits right in with the rest of the household (and he has been known to try to take down his much larger and older brother!).

Lafitte is the one who will “help” me cook.  And by help, I mean try to climb into the fridge. Try to swipe part of the week’s share from the CSA and is always willing to offer up an opinion of if he thinks a recipe needs garlic or soy.  Maybe he is looking for a scrap of feta or Bok Choi,  but he is my helper in the kitchen.  Now almost 3, he is a riot to have around – I mean, what other cat would beg for food that many humans wouldn’t even try? Mizuna anybody?


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