Banjo, in an escalating attempt to assuage his imaginary hunger, stretched to his full height and knocked three things off the open shelving in the kitchen while we were at work today: basmati rice, Israeli couscous, and Maldon sea salt. So yes. He made a salt lick out of our kitchen floor. And he’s resorted to uncooked grains.
We’re getting pretty sick of these periodic but dramatic assaults on our food. Last week, he ate the last few Candycane Joe Joe’s of the season. Luckily they don’t contain much actual chocolate, but the intestinal distress he experienced as a result was memorable and disgusting.
We keep taking steps to move things out of his reach, but he’s strategic and devilishly smart (unlike Petra, who’s purely opportunistic). I’m thinking of picking up Temple Grandin’s book to see if I can’t come up with some solution inspired by the way he looks at the world, but I think that the only real solution is crating him again.