Yesterday there was a disturbing shift in the balance of power controlling the kitchen. Up to this point we had successfully conditioned the cats like circus fleas, convincing them that the countertops were simply beyond their limited leaping ability. This worked well for several months, because like circus fleas, their brains are microscopic.

However what they lack in cognitive ability they make up for in other areas such as sense of smell. Jack in particular can detect food molecules even when they are hermetically sealed in several layers of plastic. It was this ability that finally drove him to break the flea barrier and leap on to the countertop. I like to think he misjudged his spot and landed in the sink, but we will never know.

What we do know is that Jack loves food. Very similar to a black lab I had growing up who would snarf everything including grapenuts (basically ground tree bark), Jack has become quite the gourmand. That’s French for “pig with fur”.

The food that inspired his athletic accomplishment was of course a loaf of bread. Naturally that’s what cats eat in the wild. It is tragic how many wheat crops are lost every year to packs of grain starved kittens. So when girlfriend came home she was horrified to find her bakery special million dollar loaf of bread on the kitchen floor with holes and chew marks all over its plastic wrap. She said it looked liked it had been attacked by a giant mouse but doubted that Chucky Cheese was to blame.

This happened one more time while we were both absent from the kitchen. I wasn’t completely ready to rule out Chuck (can we really trust a mutant rat who serves pizza and beer??), but the number one suspect was our little eating machine Jack. We had no proof though.

That is until this morning. Emboldened by the success of his previous raids, Jack blatantly showed off his leaping ability for me. He jumped up to the counter effortlessly and immediately began sniffing for his prey. I was just barely able to snatch the abused bread loaf in time.

At this point I had two options:
1. Store the bread in the kitchen cabinet.
2. Store the cat in the kitchen cabinet.

Decisions, decisions…

For three weeks my left shoulder has been messed up, rendering any productive workout impossible. I can feel myself becoming a flabby girly man. Even my larger sized pants which fit “just right” were tight this morning. So frustrating.

Yesterday my shoulder felt good enough to do a light workout. I did chest with minimal or no weight on the bar. I made sure to stretch good and long in between in each set. I made it through with no problem and when I was done it felt like a positive step towards getting on track.

Sure enough, this morning my left shoulder feels fine. Not completely recovered but definitely the best it’s been in a long time.

So it’s kind of a shame my right shoulder is now so jacked I can barely move my arm.