Cat funny I eat cement shirt

My old cat, Mittens, she was something else, always a source of amusement, mostly unintentional. I’m pretty sure she thought the world was her own personal jungle gym, and we were just some weird, clumsy apes who lived there. One time, I remember, I was frantically searching for the remote, convinced my kids had hidden it again, when I heard this peculiar crunching sound coming from the living room. There she was, Mittens, perched precariously on the edge of the fireplace, delicately chewing on something, like she was enjoying the most delectable treat. I got closer, completely baffled, and realized with a sinking feeling that she was happily munching on a small piece of decorative cement, a remnant from when we had redone the hearth last year.

Honestly, the sheer audacity of it all was hilarious. You’d think she’d learn from past experiences, but no, she’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed, bless her. She’d always managed to find the strangest things to get into. Remember that time she decided my favorite scarf was her chew toy, or when she managed to knock over a whole shelf of books, just because she was bored. It was always a gamble, living with that fluffy bundle of chaos. You just never knew what kind of mischief she’d concocted.

That cement incident, though, really stuck with me. It wasn’t even the damage itself – a tiny, barely noticeable chip, nothing major. It was the absolute nonchalance with which she did it. As if eating cement was the most normal, everyday activity a cat could undertake. I swear, she looked me right in the eye, mid-crunch, with this look of complete satisfaction on her face. That look, that’s pure, unadulterated cat, if you ask me. The whole thing was made even funnier, in retrospect, by the way she acted afterwards. For the next few days, I kept a close eye on her, waiting for the inevitable consequences of her unusual meal. But nothing. No tummy aches, no weird litter box visits, no unusual lethargy – she was her usual, slightly deranged self, batting at dust bunnies and plotting her next adventure. I honestly think she might’ve actually enjoyed it.

Thinking back, I suppose I should have been more vigilant in keeping potentially edible building materials out of her reach. But I was so accustomed to her ordinary shenanigans: the bird-watching from the window, the endless naps in sunbeams, the late-night zoomies. This cement episode certainly cemented (pun intended!) her status as a particularly quirky member of our family.