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Opium Addict

By: Michael LaRocca - Copyright 2004

Author of: An American Redneck In Hong Kong
Published in 2001, which actually contains very little about Hong Kong. It's mostly cat and dog stories.

November 2004


Picasso, looking so innocent!
Why is Picasso suddenly insane?

I have a drawer where I keep her beef gravy, when I have it. I thought I was out, but checked just to be sure. The fact that there was no gravy came as no surprise. However, I discovered that the catnip had been pulled from the box and clawed a bit. And with that, a mystery was solved!

For the past few weeks, she's been insisting on visiting a drawer where Jan stores some lingerie. I have opened this drawer whenever Picasso requested. And now, here's the whole story...

There is nothing of interest in that drawer. But, when it is open, little Miss Picasso can slip into the drawer beneath it, which is where the catnip is stored. One-fortieth her body weight, so we're talking kilos of reefer from a human perspective. In that drawer, she was self-medicating for at least two weeks and running totally insane. Catnip junkie!


Note that she didn't actually ask for the catnip drawer, lest I discover her drug addiction. She always asked for the one above it, lest I discover her secret and take away her catnip. Typical drug addict behavior. Now tell me she's not brilliant. And sneaky. And far too clever for her own good.

I moved the catnip to a drawer beside my bed, where I keep my wallet and keys and such. Perhaps 10 minutes later, she was clawing at that drawer the same way she used to claw at the lingerie drawer. When that didn't work, she cuddled me and purred and begged for her latest drug fix. I did not cave in.

Sunday was enforced cold turkey. Monday and Tuesday were spent asleep. Tuesday evening, her appetite returned to previous levels, and Wednesday Picasso seemed to be her old self again. In the evening we killed some bugs together. We always work together when dealing death. Picasso's the spotter and I'm the assassin. Both jobs require sobriety.

Later in the evening, Picasso asked me to open the former catnip drawer so she could roll on and rub on and chew on the single piece of cloth inside, which has a faint hint of catnip, and I caved. So I guess we've decided on gradual withdrawal after all.

So, there it is. My lovely little cat daughter is, in fact, a junkie.

Where did I go wrong?

Who Moved My Rice? was published September 30, and it's full of stories like this. The link contains free sample chapters. Because you can't eat grits with chopsticks.

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