Lord Baltarashar thinks that he is the only one that matters. |
Baltarashar is one of the rescue kittens that we trapped from the feral colony last fall. His mother was wild, or maybe feral, and she was bringing them to our porch to eat. When I spotted them I decided that they needed to be fixed.
I also secretly decided that Baltarashar was going to be my cat. He was the most curious and intelligent kitten of the litter. Unfortunately, his time being a poor kitty has warped his little kitty mind.
For instance, he runs from bowl to bowl at feeding time, sampling everyone's food---after all, I might have given someone else something better. His favorite victim to push out of the way is his brother, Georgie.
Now, I understand having food issues. My wife LOATHES my food issues. For instance, I won't consider eating anything that she might be able to eat until it is on the verge of spoiling. This includes leftovers which she doesn't like eating.
Like my cat, my food issues come from my childhood. I am the oldest of eight kids; and from about seven or eight, I was told that my duty was to sacrifice for my siblings. I often went hungry, so that they could have more food.
My wife has been trying to get me to overcome my food issues for years.
Today, I learned while putting away the groceries that "my cat" has an addititional food issue---he has absolutely no shame about helping himself to food that is meant for later. I am putting stuff in the fridge and I turn around and he is busy opening up a packet of fish. I take it away from him, and wrap it up in plastic wrap. I turn back around, and he has found another bag with fish in it. I tell him to stop that, and he gives me that look that Eddie Izzard's dog does---"Is it wrong for me to eat?"
I understand his point. My food issues and his are caused by the same type of situation---stravation. Except that he might be better at coping with it---maybe---we will see if he becomes a twenty pound cat.
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All comments on posts older than fourteen days are moderated--unless there is an outbreak of trolls selling their own brand of spammy goodness, in which case, I will go back to moderating all comments. Remember my cats do not like being petted by smelly trolls or eating spam--and they are the ones that I have to please. Meow!