In Which My Cat Longs to Become a Feline Who Lunches
My cat has recently decided he wants to partake in daily lunch. Said cat is seven years old, and heretofore has never eaten lunch. I am uncertain who even informed him about the existence of lunch since he’s an indoor cat.
Look, I’m not shaming him, but he’s sixteen pounds. He’s a tremendous cat. He has apparently subsisted on two meals a day more than adequately thus far. Also, let the record reflect that he caught a mouse recently and only ate the top half—if he was so hungry, he could have eaten the entire mousie.
I need a cat translator to explain to him the benefits of intermittent fasting and also how if he finds the two meals I provide inadequate, there is a (presumably) luscious supply not only of mouses but also of big hairy bugs on hand at all times. He can help himself to either at any time of his choosing. Unfortunately, google translate has neither a cat nor feline option in their drop-down menu. (I checked, of course.)
Also, I suspect that he is bored and perhaps unfulfilled since the dog has aged out of dry-humping him. (At least, I hope it was dry.) Evading the dog’s advances has long taken up most of his day, but now the dog just lies in his bed and farts. Perhaps the cat is questioning his own attractiveness and feels there is no use in maintaining his current weight?
But perhaps the issue is all my own. After all, if I consult a cat-human equivalency chart, we are peers. Who am I to pass judgement on his eating preferences? Should I not allow him to make his own decisions and suffer the consequences? I must admit, I am overly fond of large cats. Perhaps I am keeping him from his destiny as one of the most substantial cats of his generation.
I am the only one in our relationship who has access to both a vehicle and currency required to purchase the cat food he has recently decided he desires on a more frequent schedule. He contributes very little to the household. And yet, here I am pouring kibble into his dish at 1pm on a Monday. I am establishing a dangerous precedent which I know I will regret, and still I can’t seem to help it.
The only possible solution I can see is to get him another cat-panion. Someone to alleviate his boredom and provide competition for the mousies. After all, my kids only want the toy their brother has. Maybe it will make him step up his game. Maybe it will distract him from his lunch-obsession. The internet is happy to provide me with many pictures of cats in need of their forever home, and shopping generally sovles everything. Or perhaps I should just nap. Napping is never the wrong answer.