Sunday, January 21, 2007

Feral feline dream cuisine


photoshoppery by jacob

Pictured above is a mock-up of a product I’d like to see on the shelves of our local supermarket. Okay, let me explain...

Several years ago our much-loved family dog passed away. (And Honey, we miss you; and we’re being goo-oo-ood...)

Sometime after, our freshly canine-free backyard was colonised by a stray cat. A fearful, fearsome, feral bitch of an animal, it seemed to live on mice, carrion, and particularly the cockroaches and crickets it hunted with lethal efficiency.

Fatefully, we felt sorry for the poor animal, and introduced it to more conventional, commercially-available fare. But however sated with the modern nutritional products of a consumer civilisation, the Bitch was still partial to the entymological pickings out in the backyard.

At first, it refused to allow us near it. Then, after a month or two of laying on the free chow, it allowed us near enough for it to lash out at us with its vicious, retractile claws.

I began to suspect that this was the little savage’s perverse way of acknowledging us as fellow beings. After receiving a few deft but harmless swats in return, the Bitch somehow seemed to get the idea that such expressions of fellowship were not appreciated.

By a year or so later, the Bitch surprised us – and perhaps itself – by allowing us to stroke it. Perhaps something like tenderness visited the Bitch’s universe for the first time since kittenhood.

Now, going on eight years after it chanced into our lives, the Bitch remains queen of its almost exclusive dominion, our backyard, often to be seen preying on hapless cockroaches and crickets, to this day a prized delicacy.

I should point out that the Bitch is not, and never will be, a house cat. Because of my tolerance and occasional indulgence, I’ve been very inaccurately and unfairly labeled a cat person; however, I’ve steadfastly refused to have the Bitch in the house.

Readers will perhaps be pleased to note also that this animal does not prey on birds. It’s not uncommon to see the Bitch sprawled out in the back lawn, with native doves, blackbirds, and other fowl of the air gamboling unconcernedly and unregarded nearby.

I suspect the idiot has relegated our feathered friends to the too-hard basket (in part, because it seems to be half blind). And indeed – why bother? – when the delights of phylum Arthropoda are such ready and easy prey for this seasoned insectivore.

 
NOTICE
Whiskas® is a registered trademark of Masterfoods Australia New Zealand. No adverse reflection on the content or nutritional characteristics of Masterfoods Australia New Zealand pet and other food products is implied or intended by the author. The accompanying graphic content is reproduced under fair use provisions of applicable copyright laws and is just a joke, folks. The author further acknowledges that the Whiskas Colour Purple is a trademark.

4 Comments:

Blogger Caz said...

I'm somewhat amazed that you took this cat on, or that she took you on, being such an overtly anti-social feline.

And years, years, years (!!!) later, she is still with you!

Sort of like being a cat owner without actually taking on the responsibilty of owning a cat. In this instance, an arrangement entered into equally by both parties.

It's a rather nice story.

21/1/07 4:19 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Yes, it could stand as a parable of inter-species peace and understanding.

The really surprising thing about this is the missus's tolerance of the animal. She's a passionate dog person. I'm neither a dog nor cat person, but at least cats are more self-sufficient.

Responsibility? Well, I do give the thing worming treatment. And when we move, possibly in the next year or so, some decision will have to be made about its future. Whether it's permanent nigh' nigh' at the vets, or some other arrangement, remains to be seen.

21/1/07 9:49 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your story of the Bitch brought back memories for me Jacob.

Years ago a stay black and white old Tom cat, appeared in my back yard.
He was a big cat with a huge head.

He was quite feral and would keep his distance, looking at me through narrowed eyes.

Being the cat lover that I am, I would leave food out for him.

I would speak gently to him ,and, over a peroid of time he let me get closer to him.

Initially when I first attempted to pat him, he scratched and bit me.

Not one to be put off, I persevered.

Gradually he came round.

I think that the poor animal had never received any affection at all in it's life.

And you know, he turned out to be one of the best pets I had ever had.

Sadly , I only had him for a couple of years before he became ill and had to be put to sleep

I was absolutely heartbroken.

I took the poor thing to the vet who said he had kidney failure.

Not wanting to let Puss die alone I held him while the vet gave him the needle.
All the while just crying my eyes out.

Silly me, I'm crying... even now.. After all those years.

22/1/07 12:33 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Loved your bitter-sweet tail (ahem), Kath.

Some cats have a cushy life, some cats have a dogs' life. (Same with dogs, as a matter of fact.)

I guess most of us know sorry-tails-but-true of the more unfortunate of our four-legged planet mates.

Then, every now and again, a happier outcome, providing circumstantial evidence that maybe there IS a god after all.

I understand your sadness about your pet. Be comforted, though, that he was lucky to find you, and you he. However brief was your time together, it made a big difference in this sometimes sad little world.

I'll bet it made a big difference to him, anyway.

30/1/07 11:21 PM  

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