My mom thinks I’m helping her work, but I’m actually doing a lot of the work myself. Look how well I’m handling both the spool of that really fun plastic-coated wire—and you know how I love my plastic—at the same time as I am tasting one of those long metal things. I can do this! Just lay everything out in front of me and I’ll take care of things.
Everything must be tasted; mom laughs and says I relate the the world by chewing on it. I don’t know what that means because how else could I determine anything about an object I’ve never seen? Or one I have seen but haven’t seen in a while? Or one I see all the time but just feel like I have to bite it?
I even let mom use my tools as long as I’m not using them already.
Here I am when the work is all done. I’m very proud of my work.
Feline logic, it just can’t be argued with.
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