Cat mad with Icecream

The Cat and the Scoop Barnaby was a cat of sophisticated tastes. He turned his nose up at dry kibble that had been sitting out for more than an hour. He judged the freshness of salmon paté with the scrutiny of a health inspector. But nothing, absolutely nothing, dismantled Barnabys dignity quite like the sound of the freezer door opening. It was a Tuesday evening when his human, Sarah, committed the act. She retrieved a pint of Vanilla Bean Dream, a spoon, and a ceramic bowl. Barnaby, dozing on the radiator, opened one green eye. The sound of the lid popping off was a clarion call. Barnaby stretched, feigning casual disinterest, and trotted into the living room. He hopped onto the sofa, settling exactly six inches away from Sarahs knee. He waited. Sarah took a bite. "Mmm." Barnaby let out a small, pitiful sound. It was a specific meow, honed over years of evolution, designed to sound like a kitten lost in a storm, despite Barnaby weighing fifteen pounds. "No, Barnaby," Sarah said, not looking up from her book. "It's dairy. It'll upset your tummy." Barnaby didn't care about digestion. He cared about the creamy, white mountain in the bowl. He inched closer. His whiskers twitched, picking up the scent of sweet vanilla and cold air. He tried the Direct Approach. He placed a heavy white paw on Sarahs arm. She gently moved it away. He tried the Hypnotist. He stared unblinkingly at the spoon, tracking its trajectory from bowl to mouth, hoping to intercept it with sheer telekinetic will. Finally, he tried the Sneeze-and-Grab. He pretended to sneeze, jerking his head forward in a violent motion that accidentally brought his nose within licking distance of the bowl. "Barnaby!" Sarah laughed, pulling the bowl away. But she had melted. Just a little. She dipped the very tip of her finger into the melted remnants at the bottom of the bowl and held it out. Barnaby sniffed it suspiciously. He gave it a tentative lick. Cold. Sweet. Divine. He licked her finger clean, purred like a diesel engine, and immediately sat back down, looking at the empty bowl with an expression that clearly said, Is that it? Brain freeze was a myth, Barnaby decided. The real tragedy was portion control.