The Great American Treat-Off

Take a look at my cats over there: the black one and the spotted tabby. 

They are cat treat addicts.  In fact, they like the treats so much they act very frantic when Ron takes them out.  The kitten acts desperate and manic, we can literally make her dance for a treat.  I like to put my finger over the treat and challenge her to get it. 

Ron has often mused about how he'd like to test their limits, give them unlimited treats until they said "That's all".  I agreed.  That would be a nice thing to do, someday. 

Today, Ron came out of his bedroom, holding a plastic bowl, and a bag of cat treats.  "Today's the day, Heather.  The Great American Treat Off." 

We went out on the porch (my idea), and Ron sat down in the chair (he can't stand for long).  I called Bubba, who came running. 

I have various love names for the cats.  If I call Bubba (real name "Mr Black") "Bubs" he knows I have a tasty.  If I call Baby Girl (really Little Girl) "Varms" (affectionate derivative of "Varmit") she knows I have a tasty.  So I called the special names and they came running. 

Ron put the treats in a bowl.  As near as I could figure, Bubba ate about 35 treats.  Baby Girl ate about as many, and then they both staggered off. 

Bubba eventually came home and slept in my bed for hours.  Baby Girl stayed gone for hours and just came home as I typed this. 

I hope they understand that was a special occasion!