Last week I stepped into the bedroom and there was a Ziploc bag on the floor. This was more than a little confusing, as they nominally live in the kitchen, on top of our refrigerator.
My best guess was that either my wife or I picked one up, absentmindedly brought it into the room, and left it there.
Fast forward to last night: it is perhaps 3 or 4am; and there is a strange rustling coming from the foot of the bed. I get up to investigate, at which point our youngest cat rockets out of the room... Leaving behind ten Ziploc bags, full of tiny teethmarks.
I love her so much... But she is absolutely, quantifiably, an idiot.