The Slug

Not that the slimy slug understood anything I had to say, I just felt good saying it.

Return to the daze of my youth.

This morning, just as every morning, I made myself a strong cup of coffee and walked outside to fetch the cat’s bowl. My sweet Panther was waiting for her breakfast and inside her bowl was a slug licking her bowl clean.

I petted the cat, picked up the bowl, dumped the slug on the porch, and carried the bowl inside where I washed it out and refilled it with her favorite mix of canned and dry cat foods.

Panther’s head went inside the bowl as soon as I placed it on the porch and the slug started making its way back towards the bowl in a spiral as it tried to zoom in on the aroma of freshly un-canned cat food.

After a few minutes Panther was finished with breakfast leaving most of the food in her bowl to eat later as she almost always does. I finished my coffee and watched as the slug slowly spiraled ever closer to the bowl. “Panther,” I said, “that slug is going to steal your food. Are you going to let it steal your food?”

Panther just turned around and looked the other way, her belly full, confident that with no more than a few meows food will always be served.

I watched and waited until the slug was just about to climb up the side of the bowl, then snatching the bowl away I said, “Today I’m a Libertarian, I don’t care about anything but what’s mine. You have to earn your meals, you slug.”

Not that the slimy slug understood anything I had to say, I just felt good saying it.

Please continue reading Boot Camp Memories.

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