Slumming, or Politics?

The Rough Cats get an evening hand-out of whatever is the cheapest cat food I can find: since nothing has taken us to the farmer’s shop where you can buy a 25-kilo sack of the stuff, I have a small sack-ette from a supermarket of something which promises nothing and cost something like 73p a kilo. I put some out this evening, and when I turned round, there was Miss Kit, who gets fed on something infernally expensive called Hills Science Diet which you have to buy from the vet, nose down in the griblets. Lust for variety? A taste for junk food? But the speed at which she was eating suggested that the stuff wasn’t particularly nice: I’m inclined on the whole to think that the story is less about junk food than about saying: See. I am smaller than any of you, but if I want to have a go at your tea before you get it, who’s going to stop me? The answer, inevitably, was no-one. Too near the back door, of course, and a potential human rescue mission. A Fillan looked on seething, a couple of Colmans kept their distance — Miss Kit ate on till she had made her point, then strolled away. If she intends to be sick, I do hope she does it outside.

4 Responses to “Slumming, or Politics?”

  1. A Remote Reader Says:

    Yergh. I think I might move the slops further away to avoid any digestive issues. If it looks naff out of the bag, it won’t be improved by a round-trip to her innards. Here we have some kindly old soul who leaves out food for the local moggies and it ends up being filched by raccoons, animals who need no encouragement.

  2. carol Says:

    Is this ‘Hills Science Diet’ abreviated from ‘Beverley Hills’ by any chance? There seems to be a prima donna quality about this mog that may very well be brewerd at a gastric level by snarfing down on a more regular basis the Hollywood Formula Gribbles of the Stars…

  3. Jane Says:

    Hills, not Beverley Hills (I hope), though I agree that Miss Kit can be just a little histrionic. The focus of her energies, however, is being carried about 24/7 rather than what is in her dish — she’s not particularly greedy. She wasn’t sick, by the way, or at least, not anywhere were I found out.

  4. Will Says:

    We have a new pup and suddenly are thrown into a pseudo-adopt-a-child-mode, buying large quantities of puppy-this and science-puppy-that. I have gladly taken a relaxed approach with the occasional poo clear-up and the reminder that most animals will eat ANYTHING disgusting. (Well, fairly; so far we have ingested a bit of 18c chest or drawers and a piece of bark chipping.) Training is the one deficit of dog-as-opposed-to-cat ownership. Our other chocolate labrador is looking faintly humiliated but is showing great breeding otherwise and is taking things as if a great Victorian aunt. The cats are merely bored, having done this ALL BEFORE…

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