A box arrived today. I'd been expecting it, and from the cardboard womb, I could catch the faintest whiff of ginger, rosemary and cayenne pepper. Food? No. Badger Balm, a muscle rub revered by even the craziest, hard-core runners. I'd heard rumors. Hard to find. Best to special order. And when it comes, find a quiet room and worship the little metal tin.

Clutching the box to my chest like a squirrel having found a particularly juicy nut, I ran into my apartment. Packing tape. Okay, no problem. Just have to rip...if I could get a corner....I pawed at it like a deranged woodland creature. No luck. Scissors. I sliced open the tape around the box flap, dropped them with a clatter and pawed some more. Nothing. If I could just get it started... work it up just a little bit...Teeth. I chewed on a corner, hooked an incisor on the flap, growled. Wet and slobbery, the glue held. Son of a...

"Give it to me! Give it, you mangey ferret turd! Give it!"

Claw end of a hammer. Pliers. Screwdriver. Power saw. Nothing. I pounced on it, held it in my forepaws and used my back feet to shred the cardboard. Turns out that works better for cats. Still the package held, the sweet scent of pain relief taunting me from within its depths.

I consider backing over it with the car. I am halfway out the door. I look down. "To open, pull tab."

Mother f -