The Role of Food in Our Household

For the last few years, we’ve been pretty calm about food in our household. Mom is an omnivore. I’m famous for eating unmentionable garbage and stealing my mom’s food. The cats chewed on their crunchies.

Then everything changed. Cathy adopted Ophelia, who’s a food fuss. Ophelia insisted on eating canned food, which was supposed to be an occasional treat. My mom doesn’t want to mess with cans. After all, I eat crunchies. Why shouldn’t the cats? Who’s the superior species here?

So my mom finally got firm. At night she put down two plates of yummy Avoderm crunchies, one for each cat. Ophelia ran to her dish. Alas, she seemed to say, “no crunches.”

She gave Mom her best pathetic stare. Mom was unmoved. She had just rinsed out 3 cans for recycling. Enough!

So she ran to the other dish and sniffed. No crunchies.

Ophelia ran back and forth a couple of times before accepting the inevitable. She stalked away, fat plumy tail held high.

My mom was worried. “What if she won’t eat? What if she gets hepatic lipidosis? A big vet bill…”

Later that night we awoke to the sound of crunching. Sure enough, there was Ophelia, caught in the act. Ophelia looked at my mom and dashed away, muttering, “I was not eating. Don’t get any ideas.”

Could a cat be this smart? my mom wondered. She asked a couple of her human friends, by phone.

“Cats can be very manipulative,” said Mom’s friend Pat. “Don’t give in.”

Mom’s pretty stubborn herself. After all, I did serious crate time my first few months, till I convinced everyone I could be trusted to stay on the bed all night. I know the drill.

Anyway, I’ve had slim pickings around here myself. Mom downloaded a diet from the Internet and there’s not much for me to steal. No self-respecting dog would eat a cucumber and tomato salad. Whole grain bread? Not for me.

And that ditzy Creampuff keeps eating my food. I’d like to have a word with that adoption agency…if I knew how to use a phone.