On the Cat Food Trail

A product leaves a shelve, and the world changes. In this case, it's just cat food. Thanks to their are ornery and fickle natures, everything with cats is a chore.

Percy gets plenty of wet food, probably more than he deserves or needs. His outdoor activity keeps his body from turning too much of it into fat.

When presented with a bowl of new food, how many times have cats sniffed then glared with blank expressions that scream, "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm not eating that."

Occasionally, Percy dragged kitchen towels over his bowl, amplifying his dismay. Worse than not wanting to taste, the cat won't even look at his meal. Finding food that meets those high culinary standards is difficult. When outdoors, he eats bugs and grass, so only the best cuts of meat will suffice.

Now I have to scramble. The grocery might close out the food, but I'm not ready to concede. It took too long to acclimate the cat to any food. Finding one which did not produce clouds of "cat gas" took even more time. Every time I contemplate the opportunity to move the cat back to dry food (he still eats some, but only when really hungry), I remember how difficult it is to get a pet to backtrack.

This weekend I began the Kroger search. As the only place that sells this food, the hunt is simple. So far, the cat-owning public hasn't caught onto the new closeout price. I've already cleaned out three Krogers. I plan to hit everything close to home. Other cat owners will notice the lower price. By then, it's too late.

My kitchen pantry holds a small stockpile. But I know how much a 15-pound cat devours weekly. The recycling bin often carries nothing but cardboard and tins from cat food.