Hazel’s weakness is ham. It’s strange and makes no sense, but one whiff of the stuff and she turns into an animal, pawing at your leg and begging for a piece.
And although ham is her absolute favorite, no meat is completely off limits. One night I cooked some chicken for myself and left a piece out on the counter, forgetting to seal it up in something and put it in the fridge. A couple hours later, I found the half eaten chicken breast laying in the corner of the dining room. Hazel had jumped onto the counter, dragged the chicken breast to the dining room and had herself a fancy dinner.
The strangest part about all this is that when is comes to food shenanigans, Olive does not partake. I guess once in a while, she has to be the voice of reason. But not very often.