One Cat's Addiction and her Enabler (ala Calvin Trillin)

The cat made it clear. She needed a fix, now. "Meeeeooww," she pleaded in a low, almost inaudible voice. This was not a conversation for all to hear. Her owner (I confess that's me) knew that plaintive cry and knew that I was the keeper of my cat's satisfaction. I had in my possession the coveted cotton ball.

From down on the floor she turned her head up to me, her saucer green eyes wide with expectation. Urgency was etched into her brow. I may not share my cat’s insatiable need to pounce on white fluffy tufts, but I know what it's like to plead and be ignored. I've asked my children to clean their rooms many times with no response, unless you call them closing their doors a call to action.

Now Mew Mew, as she's known, is a chatty cat (hence her name) and she's a master at letting her wants be known. Before she got hooked on cotton balls, (which I have to confess I turned her onto) she had an insatiable appetite for faucets running cold water. But with water running down her head, over her ears and eyes, things got messy and she got tired of the soggy fix. Pining for something new, her senses alert, she saw me carelessly toss a cotton ball into a wastebasket. Cravings for her first passion flooded back like a tsunami.

The mighty cotton ball had to again conquer and possessed, over and over....