Wednesday, July 12, 2006

cleopatra's cat


That's it. I'm done serving the cat a variety of cat foods. It's ridiculous. I'm standing in the Falmouth Pet wondering whether she'd like a sardine, shrimp, and crab combo, or turkey, rice, and vegetables. Rice? Since when do cats even like rice?
It's like the toothpaste aisle. Gel? No Gel. Mint Flavor? Tartar control? With baking soda or without? For Pete's sake! We're just going to spit it out!
The cat likes beef, she likes liver (hey, she's a cat, what can I say?), so I got her a dozen cans of each. Why didn't I think if this before? She's a 15-year-old, spayed, indoor, cat. She doesn't need variety. All she needs is a sunny spot to sleep in and for the kids not to vex her while she's stretched out enjoying it.
They say that being enslaved is having no choices, but I say it's also having too many choices. We should be trying to solve global warming, instead we're all paralyzed trying to decide between 50 different types of cat food.
The downside to having a pet and having kids is when your son puts his plate on the floor and says, "look, mommy, I'm eating my dinner like the cat." Then you notice that he's eating more that way than he was at the dining room table - eating like a three-year-old.

song: cleopatra's cat • artist: spin doctors

1 comment:

Karen said...

At least he's eating his own food and not the cats