Feeding Frenzy

                The cats are ecstatic—I got up before 6 a.m. to feed them.  Usually Jersey and Toby start working their “Feed Us!” routine at 4 a.m.—Toby with a pathetic cry tactic, Jersey with a stare so piercing I can actually sense it in the dark.  Please don’t feel sorry for them in any way.  Throughout the night a bowl of dry chicken and turkey cat food is available.  No animals starve in our home.  This early morning vigil isn’t out of need, it is out of want—want for the coveted canned food I dole out in two tablespoon servings to each as a treat.  Canned food is a little too gourmet for our already hefty cat budget so the five of them split a can.

Canned food time (these are not all ours--we're cat-sitting one)

                Through the years, whichever cat is youngest is most aggressive in assuring his portion.  When Frank was youngest, he would stand in the middle of the plate, growling and hissing as he ate to guarantee no one else got their share.  He’s mellowed and the new baby, the normally mild-mannered fluffy Toby, is now the trough bully.

                Despite the early hour, cat feeding is a wonderfully amusing way to start the day.  If I take my time, the cats will work themselves into a frenzy reminiscent of a primitive tribal dance around an open fire.  Overcome with excitement, they start spinning in circles, stomping and leaping, unaware of the others and sometimes landing on top of them.  Crying and purring and yowling fills the air.  Sometimes I can’t help myself, I just stand there letting them get more and more worked up—five big drama queens majorly overacting.

                In the clowder kingdom, the most heinous human crime is to forget (or be too busy) for canned food feeding time (reminder—there is always dry food available).  To forget will result in a long lecture followed by shunning.

                I reminds me a lot of our culture—bellyaching and hurting others with criticisms and complaints, not necessarily over legitimate needs, but often over minor inconveniences or lack of luxuries.  People tantrums aren’t nearly as cute as kitty tantrums.  Time to think twice about my “canned food complaints” and save them for when the dry food bowl goes empty.