The Cat Food Calamity

     You've heard the term, "Plop!  Plop!  Fizz, fizz," haven't you?  Well, that's about how I felt on the morning of my last blog post.  Remember?  That was the day I told you that I was not fond of the taste of cat food.  As a matter of fact an' after much consideration, I can truly say that I hope I never hafta' eat anything that tastes that bad, ever again.  Bleh!

     Picture, if you can, my cheerful demeanor as I stepped from my kitchen door onto the porch.  Snow had fallen the night before; the first snow of the season.  It was beautiful.  So clean an' pure.  It actually took my breath away… about one second before my feet flew up an' I did a full Body-Slam, with my face buried in cat food.

     I waited, knowing that my good hubby-buddy was watching for me to return.  As I lay on my stomach, I was certain that my hero would rescue me.  Any day, now.  This week, or next.  I was patient… more or less.  That is, until my next thought.

     "What if he came outside, too, an' we both wound up in the cat food?  Would we even be able to stand up?  I doubted it.  I began putting more effort into liberating myself from my predicament.  Believe me, it was not easy.  Between the slippery snow an' a reluctant body, jus' gettin' to my knees was a challenge.  Never mind, actually standing upright.

     So, there I was, with the latest version of 'Egg On My Face' (Yuck!) an' my arms wrapped around the railing of the porch… TRAPPED!  Whilst I huffed an' I puffed to gain an upright position, my good hubby-buddy remained indoors, oblivious to any of the current events.  As happy as I was that he din't know what was goin' on, part of me wanted to {{{{{ S M A C K }}}}} him!

     Finally, I made it to my feet an' worked my way to the door.  Curiously, with ice an' snow all over my hands an' me unable to get the sliding door open, I was forced to tap on the glass to get Hubby-buddy's attention.

     Ya' know that comment about smacking him?  Well, he took one look at my face an' his laughter instantly reinforced that emotion.  Sort of.  Actually, we both got a good laugh out of it, but in my mind, he was not getting' off so easy.    

     For the record, I dunno' who develops the flavors in pet foods, but I have a greater respect for my cats an' their preference for eating dead things, rather than the food I put out for 'em.  What bothers me most is the fact that we have bought many different kinds of food for our feline family, but they still seem to prefer the dead things.

     What about your pets?  Do they also choose to eat somethin' other than the famous brands of cuisine, found in the pet food aisles?  If so, I think you should stick to your regular diet of human fare.

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya