The Finicky Eater

November 25, 2009

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.

Sample #2:

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.

Sample #3:

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.

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