The Trouble with the Tortillas

Oh my.

I swear it was not premeditated. As previously discussed, my diet is strictly controlled. Hunger is ever present, and when starvation looms, my stomach takes over.

bblog8-2One day, my bearded human was busying himself at the stove, cooking a veritable feast compared to the measly pellets I must ingest. Then, opportunity struck, and he went to eat upstairs without putting all of the food away. Indeed, my keen sense of smell detected a most wondrous scent coming from the kitchen island, perhaps made all the more attractive by the pangs of pain in my belly.

I leapt onto the cold granite counter and there it was: a bag of humongous flour tortillas. Naturally, I had to take it to my stash, and so I grabbed it in my mouth and ran all of the way upstairs. The flat bread may have been as large as I was, but I was not to be deterred, driven by starvation as I was, and I brought the bag under the bed as the humans watched in incredulity.

Alas, my prize was taken from me, and the incident earned me one of my many nicknames. The humans have also grown more cautious, but this would not be a problem if they fed me properly in the first place. Oh well; they are bound to drop their guard sometime.

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