This makes me think of a cat who once owned me. His name was Skittles. He managed to get a sealed plastic bowl of catnip from the top of the fridge and actually get the lid off. By the time I got home he was so high he couldn’t stand up. He was putting the side of his face on the carpet and using his back toenails, um… I mean claws, to push himself through the catnip. I set him on his feet and he wobbled around a bit and fell over. I laughed so hard I thought I’d have an accident. Poor Skittles wasn’t happy with me when I vacuumed up all the catnip.
For months, he would sniff around in front of the stove, reach under as far as he could and pull out a piece of catnip. Then he’d roll around on it and purr really loud. He was a good cat and I miss him still after 15 years.
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Oh Clara, you should see the catnip by my back door. The leaves are huge. I like to bring three or four of them in for Midnight. He really loves that stuff.
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