Mammal Mondays: A Stegosaurus Scandal

Okay, before folks start emailing to inform me that a stegosaurus is, in fact, a reptile and therefore does not technically qualify for Mammal Mondays, let me explain. The mammal involved here is my cat, Leroy, the drooly fellow who really is the dumb blonde of this house.

Regular readers will remember Stanley, the giant purple stegosaurus The Electrician bought Sherman for his birthday last week.

Sherm and Stanley

Since Stanley has come to live here, Sherman has been utterly enthralled by his scaly good looks. Sherman chomps his spines, gnaws his feet, and grips Stanley by the face to thrash him around the living room. There have been several times where I had to hide the dinosaur because Sherman was so wound up I was afraid he and Stanley might break something. Whenever Stanley is not out in the living room, waiting patiently in his spot for the next playtime, Sherman searches the house for him. It seems they have a good thing going.

Imagine my surprise, late Saturday night when I returned from watching theatre sports with a friend, when Stanley was not where I left him. During the time I was out of the house, Sherm was sleeping locked in his kennel; the dog could not possibly have moved him.

I didn’t think too much of it but sat down to write the next blog post to keep the momentum going. Only a few minutes after settling into the couch with my Macbook, I heard Leroy purring loudly but didn’t see him. I looked behind the couch and was shocked by what I saw.

Leroy and Stanley are, apparently, engaged in a clandestine romance. They were wrapped in a torrid embrace on the hardwood floor, Leroy purring and drooling himself a puddle, and Stanley grinning like a fool. Actually, Stanley always has the same look on his face so we might not count it, but there were shenanigans going on.

The cat froze for a moment, and I could tell his slow little feline brain was struggling to process the fact that he’d been caught in the act. Leroy sprang up from his stegosaurus spoon and dashed off to the kitchen, where he hid on a chair pushed in under the table. He still won’t look me in the eye.

Please don’t tell Sherman. I think it might break his speckled heart.

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