This one totally reminds me of my cat Taz when she was a kitten. On my hubby's first meal with my family, my mom cooked lasagne. We'd already explained the origins of Taz's name to my hubby but either he failed to believe our claims of a small feline Tasmanian Devil or he seriously underestimated the lengths to which she would go to procur something to her liking. My mom had already dished a serving of lasagne onto my hubby's plate but he was lingering at the sink to wash his hands (or making some other rookie mistake). Before anyone could react, a black blur raced through the dining room, leaped to his chair, and one furry black paw swiped across his plate, sending the entire serving of lasagne flying onto the floor.