Normal cats do not do this.
More fearsome than the four horsemen of the apocalypse, cats invading the salad while your back is turned to marinate the chicken is enough to frighten even the strongest among us.
Not one, but two salad eating cats. Needles to say, we omitted the salad course tonight.
On a positive note, the fact that they were chomping their way through lettuce and green onions meant that they were not rolling around in the yarn, a particularly good thing since the Debbie Bliss silk/alpaca yarn I’m using for my Clapotis simply refuses to stay in its skein. I’m about one-third of the way through the straight sections, right in that dark tea-time of the soul where there seems to be no progress as I knit into a big black hole.