Until recently, our cats subsisted on dry cat food alone. About a thousand years ago we would give them canned cat food sometimes as a “treat” – but after going vegetarian I suddenly took issue with meat in cans, cat food included.
Thus, due in part to my new vegetarian dogmas, I stopped buying canned cat food.
Now I know this is stupid. Cats are meant to eat meat. Cats have to eat meat. I read this fact in a magazine or something once so I’m sure it’s true. I’m also sure that dry cat food is made out of meat, but dry food just felt less like meat to me and more like cereal. Dry food was therefore easier to reconcile in my messed up mind that took issue with giving my cats wet, mushy meat from a can.
Admittedly though, there was something else going on. Something else that lead to this canned cat food boycott – and that “something else” would be the antics of our more vocal cat.
You see, every time I served up canned cat food, this cat would meow and meow and meow and meow at me as she impatiently waited for her pile of meat. She eventually started this unending stream of meows when I opened any can, when any small plate hit the counter top or when I stood in the kitchen for any period of time.
OK cat, that’s it. I’ve reached my breaking point.
New Herbivorous Principles + Incessant Meowing = Canned Cat Food Boycott
And they did fine on dry food alone, plus the boycott did the trick; the meowing insanity at every turn in the kitchen eventually stopped. They hunted outside anyway, and that was something even my vegetarian self could get next to. If cats are meant to eat meat then cats are meant to hunt – so get your cat self out there and go catch yourself a mouse or a bird or something.
Fast forward a thousand years, I just recently noticed that this same cat was getting a little skinny. Feeling like the concerned cat mother I can sometimes be, I figured hey, I’m eating fish again, my feelings about meat aren’t quite the same anymore – what the heck, let’s end the boycott. Canned cat food for all!
And the cats cheered.
Except now, a new morning ritual with has developed and it’s making me question this canned cat food business all over again:
6:02:00 AM: The house quiet. Everyone is sleeping. That is, everyone except me and Skinny Cat.
6:02:10 AM: Skinny Cat is on the bed. Awake. In the dark. She knows I’m awake too. She has been waiting for me.
6:02:15 AM: Skinny cat lets out a solitary meow.
6:02:25 AM: I begin to move my feet and legs toward the edge of the bed. The moment just before foot-to-floor contact, Skinny Cat starts meowing and meowing and meowing and meowing.
6:03:00 AM: Skinny Cat is shushed and then hissed at about sleeping children across the hall. Children I do NOT want woken up early, Skinny Cat! But Skinny Cat continues her chorus of meows with absolutely no regard to my parental need for a couple of quiet, child-free wee morning hours.
6:03:30 AM: I fumble for my glasses in the dark and we begin to make our way downstairs. Skinny Cat weaves through my legs as I descend the stairs, completely unconcerned for my safety and oblivious to the fact that if I trip and fall and lose consciousness, there will be no canned food for her that morning.
6:04:00 AM: In the kitchen, I attempt to speak soothingly to Skinny Cat as I rub the sleep out of my eyes and retrieve canned cat food from cupboard. Skinny Cat meows and meows and meows and meows despite any claims that I am moving as fast as I can.
6:04:20 AM: The sound of the can opening leads to an intensification in meowing. Food is forked onto plate with marked speed and fury. Oh, the meowing! Someone! Make it stop! But Skinny Cat continues meowing. Fork you Skinny Cat! Fork you!
6:04:25 AM: Cat food juice flies through the air. Skinny Cat meows and meows and meows and meows as bits of Salmon Dinner are squashed with the fork onto plate and threats are given through clenched teeth about canned cat food supplies drying up if the meowing does not cease and desist immediately.
6:04:27 AM: Skinny Cat meows and meows and meows and meows as I set her plate on the floor.
6:04:28 AM: Skinny Cat begins to eat and is finally quiet. I do not even get a Thank You meow. And I don’t want one.
6:04:30 AM: I stumble from the kitchen to my computer and somehow manage to log in to email whilst recovering from Post Traumatic Meow Disorder.
6:07:12 AM: Sounds suddenly emerge from the kitchen that are reminiscent of a small metal can being picked up and dropped on the counter top – almost like it’s being picked up and dropped by a small, pink, skinny tongue.
6:07:15 AM: I push my chair back and Skinny Cat must hear chair noise as suddenly the can-dropping noises stop.
6:07:16 AM: “Something” that sounds like it has four padded feet jumps down from counter as the empty can comes crashing to the floor as well.
6:07:20 AM: I re-enter the kitchen. Skinny Cat is no where in sight. Plate has been licked spotless. Can almost has been too.
6:07:45 AM: Empty can is rinsed of remaining gravy and cat saliva to be dropped in recycle bin – the step I always forget in my rush to escape the kitchen lest I spend one more second with any prospective meow-ers.
6:08:00 AM: The house quiet. Everyone is sleeping. That is, everyone except me and Skinny Cat.
Now, if I had a recipe for homemade canned cat food this would be the point in the post where I’d share it. That or a recipe for Catloaf – but alas, I have neither.
Instead, this is where I can now think clearly enough to figure out what I’m going to feed my own (quiet) self for breakfast.
Hmmm. Pretty much out of oats. Better add it to list or someone is going to start meowing and meowing and meowing and meowing and this time it’s not gonna be the cat.
Well, I guess something different is in on the breakfast menu today then. Salmon Dinner? Or Ezekiel Sprouted Grain Almond Cereal?
I’ll take the dry food, thanks.
About a cup of 2% Fage topped with still-frozen raspberries and a sprinkling of Ezekiel cereal for some crunch.
I recently discovered this cereal in my quest for something granola-ish to top fruit and yogurt with but also low in sugar. While this is NOT a cereal I would ever envision or likely enjoy a whole bowlful of (a good thing, really) – it suits my purposes for a little something dry and crunchy to top a little something wet and mushy.
The good news is that Skinny Cat is filling out again – in fact, I might even be able to call her Voluptuous Cat soon. She was also recently de-wormed, but Voluptuous Cat has assured me that’s just a coincidence. The bad news is that I know she’s going to assure me of this again and again and again and again tomorrow.