The Cat as (*gasp*) Cat

We've been feeding tuna to both cats for quite some time. The Cat and Growler both enjoy it thoroughly; it keeps their coats shiny and thick, and may pass on some inherent tuna-like properties through its consumption. I'm sure they'd both swim with tuna-like expertise if either of them would be willing to get within sight of water.

This weekend, instead of feeding them tuna, we served Tuna Flavored Cat Food of a generic variety.

In the past, both The Cat and Growler had turned up their collective noses at brand name cat food of many flavors and brands, from the middle-of-the-road versions all the way up to the upscale elite types advertised by fluffy well-brushed cats on white pillows. But no matter how fanciful the feast, neither of our spoiled owners would flick a whiska in acceptance.

So when my husband and fellow cat-servant-person brought home a dozen cans of supermarket-brand plain label Tuna Flavored Cat Food (henceforth known as TFCF), I had visions of dusting eleven cans of said TFCF for the next decade. I mentally prepared a place on the same shelf alongside the many other brands of cat food that our cats won't deign to consume.

I figure I'd serve the TFCF while we still had a few cans of REAL tuna handy, in case a feline riot broke out and we had to defend ourselves. So I grab a can of TFCF, and discover:

1) - TFCF is audio-challenged. The Cat knows the sounds of a can opener, manual and electric. TFCF doesn't need a can opener. It has a pull tab. Neither The Cat nor Growler is particularly drawn to the Giant Sucking Sound of a pull tab (with apologies to H. Ross Perot) nor does either of them associate this sound with the promise of food. The Cat hears the sound and ignores it. Growler, who responds instantly to ANY sound of food or kitchen activity, hears the sound and ignores it.

2) - TFCF smells nothing like tuna. Well, it might if the tuna had lain on a remote rickety wooden Alaskan wilderness dock for five weeks in the heat of summer. Covered with mosquitoes. Attacked by a passing grizzly. Then left to spoil until a passing cannery worker took pity on the remains and gave them a decent burial within a small sealed can labeled TFCF, which in this case might mean This Fish Can't Fly. Temporary Formative Concrete Filler. Too Fearful Cannery Flotsam. Or Do Not Eat Contents Of This Can of TFCF.

3) - TFCF sticks like glue. When pushing it off the spoon with a second spoon, it sticks to the second spoon. If you try to move it off the spoon with your finger, it will stick to your finger. About the only thing it will not stick to is the place where you want it to land.

4) - TFCF tastes as good as it smells. Do not lick your finger if you happen to use it in place of a spoon. Yes, I speak from experience. Don't say I didn't warn you.

So I put the TFCF on the two saucers that usually host their real tuna. Growler takes one sniff and steps away, making a noise that sounds a lot like "not even with YOUR mouth am I going to eat that." (Growler will usually eat anything we'll eat, including pizza - and some things we won't eat, including pizza toppings she's fished out of the trash. She's not the picky one.)

The Cat blinks, takes one sniff, and devours the contents of her saucer of TFCF without coming up for air, strides across and devours Growler's abandoned TFCF, races back to her saucer to see if she missed a crumb of TFCF, then sits down in place and stares at me until I get the message that she would not mind at all if I were to serve up the rest of the can now. Immediately. Please. Now. Please.