Our cat got put on a special diet by the vet recently, but after years of watching him wolf down kibble of almost any type, little did I know that he was a finicky eater. I should have clued in the day he turned his nose up at fresh fish. Now that he must convert over to wet food, we've got a battle of wills on our hands.
Sample food #1:
Cat: You expect me to eat this? Don't you love me anymore?
Me: Sigh. It's good for you.
Cat: You must really hate me.
Cat (day 3): Fine. But let the record show I only ate under duress. Someone call the SPCA. She's determined to starve me out.
I trundle off to the vet who kindly provides me with alternatives.
Cat: *snorf*. Now we're talking.
Me: Hmm. A winner?
In the interest of full scientific analysis, I determine to try all samples the vet gave me.
Cat: I'm disaPOINTed! (rolls cutely on floor and winds between feet in pathetic & transparent attempt to induce the re-appearance of sample #2)
Me: Okay, then. 2 it is.
Cat : You betcha. I know where you sleep.