Last night, I brought home a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store for dinner.
As soon as I got in the door and the smell from that chicken started wafting through the house, the cats were on me like flies on sh*t.
My cats looooooooove chicken.
I actually hesitated to even buy the damn chicken, because I knew what was going to happen. Buy chicken, bring it home, have cats lose their ever-lovin' minds.
But *I* like chicken, too, and I was damned if I was going to deny myself over a little cat fuss. Because the LAST thing I want to do is end up like some of those people from My Cat From Hell, who have to, like, barricade themselves in their bedrooms if they want to sleep at night because they're afraid of what their cat might do to them. (Have you SEEN that episode where the couple had to take running leaps into their bed at night to keep little Fluffy from eviscerating them? I would PUNT that cat, is all I'm saying.)
So! Bring home chicken, cats lose their minds, time to cut up the chicken. With three cats variously climbing onto the kitchen counters ("HEY! GET DOWN FROM THERE!"), climbing up the cabinets ("DAMMIT! I SAID GET DOWN!" *swat*) and ululating like tribesmen ("Meeooooooooowww Yeeeowwwwwww Wowowowowwowwwwwwwww").
LOOK. I GAVE THEM SOME OF THE CHICKEN, OKAY? It's like a finely timed dance, with me parceling out little bits of chicken to the cats in order to buy myself enough time to get the damn thing cut up, wrapped up, and in the fridge. While saving aside some pieces for Wanders the foster, of course, who is currently residing in the spare bedroom so that she can't beat my three boys up, which is a whole nother story right there. Turns out, "She was being bullied in her other foster home", which is what I was TOLD, was ACTUALLY, "She tries to beat the sh*t out of any cat who comes anywhere near her", which, ha, live and learn.
And then there's that last mad dash at the end, where I have to buy off the cats with some last chicken pieces so I can get the chicken bones out back to the trash without the three yowling, chicken-crazed banshees following me out to the garbage can, where they would surely gladly shiv me to get to the last bits of meat.
Chicken. It's what's for dinner!
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7 comments:
Where did they find out about chicken? I have offered Jasper bits of tuna fish, chicken, ice cream, cheese, yogurt, lots of stuff, and he won't even sniff it. The only thing he recognizes as food is the water from the tuna can, the dregs of milk from my cereal, mice, and regular cat food. ...Which is weird because when I captured him, he was begging food outside a hotel, and living on cold cuts, cheese, and bread.
I had one cat who wanted cantalope. If you brought one in the house she'd climb your leg to get to the bag - and she weighed 14 lbs.
~~Silk, I don't know who informed them of the Chicken Is Tasty doctrine. I do know that when Tinks first came into rescue care, after being a street stray, chicken was the one thing that could tempt him out of hiding.
Maybe Jasper ate so much "people food" in his street days, now cat food is a treat?
My guys like ham, too. Any meat, basically, EXCEPT tuna. Go figure. And they're big cheese fans. Oh, and Pony likes thousand island dressing. And Wanders the foster thinks spaghetti sauce is pretty fine.
Oh, yeah, I've had many cats who loved spaghetti sauce! Very strange. Forgot about that (now that I live alone, tomato sauce is a rarity, so Jasper hasn't had the chance to turn his nose up at it). The late Miss Thunderfoot loved sour cream and onion flavored potato chips.
I wonder how kitties decide what they love?
Every time I go past the tempting rotisserie chicken at the grocery store, I usually pass it up. Imagine your current scenario x 3.
~~Silk, what baffles me is how my guys will love love LOVE one particular flavor of cat food, so I stock up on it, and all of a sudden - yuck. They won't touch it any more.
I've donated many, many cans of suddenly-pariahed cat food to the rescue group.
and Becs, that would make a pretty decent scary movie. "She had chicken ... they had CLAWS".
I know that you are not supposed to give cats milk but my cat goes freak crazy if he doesn't get it. Sometimes I want a glass but I know if I open the jug the CAT is going to want some and it is too much effort to refuse him so I just don't have any at all. Other times I sneak a glass in hopes he doesn't hear me but he can hear the jug opening from the other side of he house and comes like a bat out of hell. If I don't give him any he forces himself so he can drink out of my cup! It is just easier to give him his own damn saucer. And get this. He only wants skim milk. He doesn't like 1% or 2% or even whole milk. It must be skim. WTF?
Birdie, that's one picky cat! Only skim - you think he'd go for the whole stuff!
Some cats can't tolerate cow milk, but some can. As long as he doesn't demonstrate any ill effects afterward, I'd go ahead and give him some. It's easier than trying to deny him!
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