When it comes to food, we all have are dislikes and likes. Some of us will eat anything and others are picky. We starve ourselves all day because nothing looks good or we gourd ourselves to the point of exploding because it all looks delicious. We make more decisions about food everyday than anything else, do we eat out or do we cook at home, do we eat healthy and light or go for some indulgence. Wouldn't it be nice to just find a plate of food magically in the same spot every day, always there and ready to eat? We would be in heaven. I've explained this over and over till I'm blue in the face but my cats just don't get it.
I was surprised one day when going to make a sandwich. The back end of the wrapper had been ripped apart and the bread was all chewed and scratched. I tossed the bread in the trash and ate something else. An hour later, the bread was found on the floor, the wrapper ripped a little more, the bread chewed a lot more. A week later and a new loaf of bread was found lying on the kitchen floor. It was obviously, hunted down and attacked. It was mauled pretty bad and couldn't be saved so I put it to rest. I was starting to get flashbacks of the last time I had a cat who was obsessed with food. I was starting to sweat.
Canned food has been banned from my house for a few years now; thanks, to Rock and Bull back in the mid 90's and my aversion to constantly picking up trash that was thrown around the house. Those two were fed canned food every night between 5:30 and 6pm. If you missed the deadline, well, let's just say it wasn't a pretty site. It would start slowly. There would be a small crash as the kitchen trash would be knocked over. It was 6:01. There would be some rustling and crinkling as the trash started being removed from the can. It was 6:02. There would be the sound of feet running and cupboards opening, that would be me rushing to get the food out. It was 6:03.
At 5:45 one evening I realized I was out of food. I jumped into some shoes, grabbed the car keys and sped off to the store like a mad, crazy person. I made my purchase and peeled off to home. With food in hand I swung open the front door and stepped in. The entire floor was covered in tiny little pieces of trash. The living room, the dining room and the hallway looked like a ticker tape parade had just caravanned right through. I could see no cats. I ventured down the hallway passing the bathroom. Ticker taped. The bedroom door stood before me, ajar. I pushed it all the way open and there sat two cats, both staring at me, on the bed in the middle of tiny little pieces of trash. It was 6:05. It wasn't that they just strung trash all over, it was the fact that they chewed it into tiny little pieces first. Canned food was now banned.
The bread in my house is no longer left out. It has to be locked up and secured. For awhile, there were no senseless bread murders, that was until one grocery shopping day. I put down the first round of grocery bags on the kitchen floor and went to get the rest. One minute later with another round of bags in hand I rounded into the kitchen. On the floor was a plastic grocery back. Sticking out of the plastic grocery bag was a white, fuzzy butt. Flying past the white, fuzzy butt were little pieces of bread. One minute, that's all it took.
With so many decisions we make on a daily basis, it would be nice to find a plate of food that just magically appears in the same spot every day. No more trying to figure out what to make or where to eat. It would just be there, the same thing every day, all year. Yes, I would eat out of the trash too.