Misery, bad luck, feral destiny, can bring a poor kitty into a tormentuos feral life. Yet, hidden under a chewed up fur lies the soul of a gourmet awaiting for a chance to tell you how well he discerns what is tasteful, bodacious and succulent and what is not.

He is also genetically programmed to tell you when it is time to improve the menu. At that hobo cats, bum cats and other feral are at best. The finickiest household cat cannot compete with those unfortunate ones who by necessity have to get used to a really varied food source, from lizards, to wild birds, salamanders, you name it. They become the feline equivalent of delicate humans who eat snake, squid, snail and other delicacy. Therefore they tend to be very selective when accepting you generous alimentary offers.

Feral moochers eat variety, and I have to comply otherwise they get mad and leave what I served them behind. On the other hand, my Matilda eats only one brand of cat food, the M&M of kitty morsels, Temptations after one day I had the bright Idea of purchasing a overly priced package of Temptation, chicken and other of chicken and turkey. It was enough for her to choose these two flavors and this brand for life.

They inner taste genes awaken and demanding in my guests, I have escalated to a restaurant menu for the three regulars that meow softly and delicately at my porch door every day. There are Elvis, father, Rocky, son and a black and white sleepy looking one whom Matilda can't stand for unknown reason, since they never got together into any kind of a fight; she's got a temper tantrum every time she sees him (cats!). Rocky is a gobbler. He sees his father by the door and comes to share. He sees Blackie and comes to share. He shares everybody's food and from time to time, comes alone for his independent ration.

Consequently, as it frequently happens with cats, I had to change my habits to fit their busy schedule. I have to set up four to six dinners a day. I have to serve at least three types of food, according to individual preferences. Elvis loves raw chicken liver, Rocky goes wild for chicken heart, and Blackie eats both but he prefers canned turkey. Now, Elvis (you typical underdog, or undercat) eats pork, loves salmon (hates sardines), and enjoys dry food, and so does rocky. Blackie loves dry food, too. Elvis and Rocky only eat can food if spray catnip on it or olive oil in case I run out of cat nips. Let me explain that apparently they have other feeding posts in the neighborhood, but they come here — sometimes with full bellies — for quality food.

I don't know what their magic trick is, but we humans end up enjoy performing these domestic chores for these creatures we cannot even pet — their sense of enjoyment of freedom is so powerful that it mesmerizes all of us. Doesn't it?

Copyright © Ralph Rewes
June 11, 2006