Shortly after I got Bart it became obvious that I had chosen a garbage cat. Not that he wasn’t an excellent companion, he was just odd in his choices of cuisine. Bart had been a stray before he was dropped off at the human society and his skill as a street cat was superb. His first week as my cat I quickly learned that no garbage, bag of cat food, or cupboard could be left out or opened. He was a cat that would go to any extent for food even if it involved living in my garbage can (to the extent that I got a new covered garbage can within a day of having him).
Unfortunately, Bart was far too intelligent for my mediocre attempts at stopping him from eating anything other than his cat food, and soon no food was safe from him. Often I would come home to bags of bread ripped open with huge chunks missing, croissants completely eaten with only the plastic bag left behind, the cupboard to Bart’s food wide open and a bag of food with a dozen new holes in it. My garbage cat was hungry, and determined (still is), despite being perfectly well fed.
Knowing how shrewd my cat was you would think that I would be careful with leaving food out. Sadly, on one cold November day, I was not.
I had invited a good friend of mine over to meet Bart, watch movies, and eat pizza. We had made one of those frozen pizzas you get from the grocery store and settled down for a movie. I remember hearing some noise from the kitchen but thought nothing of it. Bart was always noisy. It was midway through the movie that my friend and I got up to get more pizza. What greeted us was a horror scene: a pizza without topping and much of its crust and a smiling, lip licking cat with pizza sauce stained lips.
Needless to say, Bart made an excellent first impression.