Felines and Food

Why can't people be more like cats? After all, they are content with eating the same food day after day, week after week. Not only that, they sometimes become extremely upset if the food is different, even to the extent of refusing to eat. While it is true that cats are creatures of habit, so are they enchanted by the mysteries of sunbeams, the inspirational qualities of stuffed mice, and the flirtatiousness of birds just outside the window. Obviously, cats don't lack imagination, yet they are satisfied with boredom in food.

Or perhaps not. Licorice (one of my many feline companions) constantly begs for a morsel of whatever I happen to have, and (unlike other cats I've known) never fails to eat whatever he is given. Many cats hanker to know what's in the bowl, but not many will actually taste the chipotle sauce mixed with refried beans and cheese. Of course, one cat (who passed away 15 years ago) enjoyed such delicacies as fresh grasshopper and monarch butterfly. Now, he was truly a connoisseur of live edibles, yet he too would eat anything he could purloin from a human plate.

Honestly, though, I probably would beg for scraps if I had to eat cat food every day. It only comes in two basic varieties: wet and dry. The dry is actually the lesser of the two evils since it is more akin (I imagine) to eating a handful of nuts. It seems to be basically crunchy kibble meant for kitties. (I seem to remember my son trying some when he was small and surviving none the worse for wear.) The truly revolting stuff is the wet food which comes in a variety of cans, pouches, and waxed cardboard containers. My furry friends prefer the pouch these days, which really means that's the only one Licorice isn't allergic to. (Yes, my cat has a food allergy. It's hard to explain, but to suffice to say that things get messy when he eats the wrong thing - which doesn't usually include human food since it doesn't contain the same amounts of wheat gluten as feline dietary products.)

Each evening the horde gathers for a small dish of bite-sized, moist morsels in flavors like chicken and liver, tuna, beef and broth, or turkey and giblets. Interestingly they all look the same - little squares of mystery meat swimming in a viscous, malodorous sauce. Yet, the little varmints line up like clockwork for their four bites of bliss and crowd each other out trying to get more than their fair share. All of this hullaballoo occurs over the same thing every night, which brings me to the point of this tirade. (You weren't sure I had one, were you?) Cats - self-possessed creatures of luxury with a reputation for being finicky - aren't. They are content to eat the same food day in and day out, yet are accused of being persnickity by the same people who whine incessantly if they have to eat the same dish twice in one week. (e.g. "I don't want leftovers for dinner!" Can you guess who utters these words most frequently around here? Uh-huh.)

So this evening, and many others around dinner time, I find myself wondering why humans can't be more like cats. After all, they are independent while open to loving relationships, self-sufficient while grateful for charity, entertaining while not demanding another's undivided attention (at least not often), and they don't mind eating the same food night after night - something humans might actually learn from them.