Monday, March 8, 2010

Fully at home and fully in my face.

I was out of cat food so I went to the grocery by the office. After many minutes struggling with math in my head, I decided that buying the 16 pound bag of cat food at $12.99 was a far better value than buying the 6 pound bag at $8.99 even though I really don't have a place to store the bigger bag. Sometimes, it's not about less cost. What good is 16 pounds of cat food if I have no place to store it? But, we'll figure that out.

I got Cheerios and salad greens and french fries. Tonight's supper was that lone chicken breast in a sandwich with fries. German mustard and a few sprigs of radicchio on the sandwich and I am set. Mug of nice hot tea that uses up the three bags sitting in the spoon rest. Life is good. Simple and good.

So, I'm trying to read a newspaper as I eat my fries. They are seasoned which I don't like the best. I misunderstood the print on the front of the bag. Yes, take a moment to step away and giggle, chortle, guffaw or otherwise laugh. But over baked and crispy, they are fine. Two bites into my sandwich and I have a friend.

Now, it has been years since I had a cat in my face while I eat. As health deteriorated, cats quit jumping up on the table to see what I was eating. It was always accompanied by a, "Get down! Cats don't eat x", even if, yes, cats do eat chicken. They just aren't allowed to eat MY chicken. You fool a cat that wants what you have. You have them smell your broccoli or your jello or your tea. They look at you funny because what they are smelling in front of them is not what the scent in the air is that is so enticing. But it's just enough of a distraction that they will happily wander away and let you eat in piece.

Unless they are in your face.

I gave Mija the smell of a french fry and darned if she didn't grab it and scoot into the hallway next to the food bowl to eat it. She came right back and I offered another very small one, but she wasn't interested. I think one was her tolerance level. Pilchard dashed over to see if what Mija was getting was something she wanted. Nope. She had no interest in seasoned french fries.

My chicken sandwich on the other hand.

I refused to give either of them a sniff and moved Mija onto the floor. This had to be done several times until the sandwich was gone.

/sigh And so it begins. In reality, these two exhibit far less inclination to want whatever I'm eating than any other cats I've had. I can show them the hamburger and, yes, chicken or fish that I'm preparing and have them wander out of the kitchen happy. A french fry every 3 months is an okay treat because I know they are eating good quality cat food and drinking plenty of water.

It's actually kind of funny to have a 10 pound cat purring up a storm standing in your lap trying to intercept that chicken sandwich you've made for yourself.

Beverage: Tea


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