Stories of the Moose

Moose and the Fry-Daddy

Greasy kitty smells of french fries. 

Moose had an odd idea of what it meant to eat well. McDonald's double cheeseburgers, New York sirloin, wet cat food, whatever she found on my plate, and most messily, spent deep fryer oil.

I have a Fry-Daddy, a small deep fryer that you get at Wal-Mart for $10 or something. It's great for making just enough fries or just one serving of chicken nuggets. I used that thing to death for the first week I had it The canola oil, normally pale yellow, now resembled maple syrup and smelled of onion rings, french fries, and chicken nuggets. It had to go.

Thing is, I had no container to empty the oil into. I'm not the kind of guy to pour it down the kitchen sink or a storm drain, so I dug around in my recycling bin and found an empty glass Nestea jar. But no lid. Oh well, I'll just make sure I take it out to the dumpster right after dinner.

The next thing I know it's time for bed and the oil still needed to be taken out. I figured that it would be OK until morning when I'd take it out on the way to work. I wake up the next morning to the smell of french fries and all things breaded and deep fried. I rather liked the smell, but came to realize that this is not something you normally smell in bed. Hmm. I find Moose on the pillow next to me. She wakes up, lifts her head, and then I see the source of the oil smell.

The fur on Moose's whole chest and forearms were spiky with cooking oil. I made my way downstairs to find that about a half-inch of oil had been gone missing from the lidless jar.

Moose would smell like a french fry for the next couple of weeks until she had her first ever bath in 12 years.