That's Gratitude For Ya

My idealism has once again been grossly betrayed.

For a couple of months now, I have been lovingly preparing homemade, wholesome raw food for the three cats under my protection. This involves dealing with lots of ground meat, nasty-smelling supplements, and assorted Really Yucky Stuff. It's not difficult, but it's not the most pleasant thing I've ever done either. But I love my kitties, and everything I've read says the homemade food is healthier for them than the stuff that comes out of a bag. And they seemed to like their raw food; sometimes they needed a little fish-oil sprinkled over the food to entice them to taste it, but they get three meals a day and they've been fine with that.

Or so I thought.

Tonight, while watching TV, I heard a familiar sound. It's not a sound I've heard much with these cats, but I remember it well from one of my dear departed kitties, who was a very smart and dexterous little girl-cat. It sounded like bang....bang....bang... and after a moment, I recognized it as the sound of a cabinet door repeatedly being worked by a very persistent paw.

But I was watching something, and it's hot, and I didn't feel like getting up, so I let the bang....bang...bang... continue. Eventually it stopped.

About five minutes later, I realized two things simultaneously. One: the banging noise had been replaced by a very quiet rustling and crackling; and two: none of the three cats were anywhere to be seen. Clearly it was time to investigate.

When I got to the kitchen, I found an open cabinet--the bottom cabinet next to the stove, the cabinet where we keep the "emergency" sack of Cat Chow. (We kept a half-bag around when we switched to raw food, in case the cats decided they just WEREN'T going to go along with the new program. Thankfully, we haven't had to resort to that.) I was met with two guilty pairs of eyes--Cassidy and Snickers--and one pair of white hindquarters and a black tail, which was all I could see of BadCat. BadCat was three-quarters of the way into the cabinet, with his head and front paws in the sack of Cat Chow, totally oblivious to my presence and enthusiastically making "nom nom nom" sounds. Cassidy and Snickers were--I'm not kidding here--LINED UP behind him, each waiting patiently for his turn--til Cat-Mom came in and spoiled the fun.

I would understand this dietary transgression better if they were snacking an hour BEFORE dinner time; but no. In fact, they were noshing on Cat Chow while the remnants of dinner still sat in their individual bowls! With the exception of Cassidy, who leaves no bite of food uneaten, they'd eaten about half their meal before heading for the snack-food aisle.

I'm trying to keep my head up about this; as I type this, Snickers is finishing off the remnants of dinner (albeit it's BadCat's dinner he's finishing; these guys are weird about food bowls. It doesn't seem to matter who eats from which bowl, as long as each cat has one.)

I guess it's like feeding kids; you can give them all the healthy food in the world, and every so often you'll still find them up to their shoulders in a sack of Fritos. It's rough, being a cat-parent.