Wednesday, April 07, 2010

It's a small brain...

... but it's dedicated.

This is what I think about our cats. From kittenhood, they've maneuvered us (mainly me) into doing what they want. It's akin to letting a toddler have his way just so he'll leave you alone. Not that I ever did that.

Cat Pyewacket has developed some sort of affliction whereby he's lost a lot of weight, but still eats like a pig. Vet and lab tests later, it is not immediately apparent what is the cause. The cost, however, was sufficiently high that Pye is going to have a comfy, if somewhat shorter, life. Since he'll be 9 in a month, 'shorter' becomes a relative term. Therefore, I've taken to supplementing his dry cat food diet with canned food. Not much, just enough to get him in the habit of bugging me about 11 each morning until he gets his special food. His obese brother gets less.

So I was opening cans of fruit for a salad the other day and the manual can opener was not making a dent in either one of their sleep patterns. I came to the can of mandarin oranges. It was a pop top like their cat food. I popped--and immediately they were alert, their heads swiveled expectantly in my direction. Pye even went so far as to give me the pleasure of his presence. I explained that oranges were not on his diet. Then I had to explain it again and again and he finally got the hint.

The same holds true with pulling out a bag of cat food from the pantry. Their bowl may be full with the same dry food, but they want a bite--just a bite--of the new. It must be akin to a new car smell.

Can't get enough of it.

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