Bones

I should start this story by telling any of you who might not know that the only nickname (or set of nicknames, I suppose) that have ever stuck to me center around cats. I am frequently known as Cat, Kitty, Koshka, Neko, and a host of other things that mean, well, cat. And no, I am not some ridiculous hardcore anthro fetishist, I am simply very catlike and have a great fondness for the creatures. This makes for a good deal of humor when there is a cat around or something that references cat behavior, for instance, when discussing the typical roleplaying merit of 'Catlike Reflexes', &c.

Now, on to the story.

A few weeks ago, Walrus and I and some friends were out to dinner. We had all been very hungry, so we ate pretty fast and then were very full. I'm sure you know the feeling: happy food-coma lethargy. Walrus had been eating ribs, and had a good portion left over, so he asked for a box. It is well established fact at this point that I love chewing on bones, and getting the marrow and such out where possible, and rib bones are pretty good for that. So when he got the box, he started putting his finished rib bones in the box as well as the ones that were still intact.

The waiter, seeing this as slightly odd behavior, stopped and asked, "Taking those bones for your dog?"

The Walrus replied, "No, cat, actually."