in Satire

Sybil’s Unfancy Feast

Sybil, our cat, appeared to be content with her dry food, other than complaining when the contents of her bowl became too small. Indignant, she howled until a refill arrived. My beloved felt the cat required a diet make over. As a test run, he purchased moist, run of the mill cat food. Sybil inhaled the food and hinted she might enjoy a larger portion and, more often.

Fired up by her acceptance of the new food choice, Hubby spent days on the internet researching cat health and nutrition requirements. The appropriate diet had to contain mostly protein and vegetables. Fillers are a deal breaker. We made a bazillion trips to the pet store and poured over nutrient labels.

My eyes began to glaze over at the sight of a can of cat food. Hubby never puts that kind of effort into my food selections. When I am ill, and he sets out on a mercy mission for chicken soup, he returns with a cheap store brand that contains no chicken and three noodles. I declined further participation in the cat food quest.

Left to search on his own, he finally located the gourmand version of cat food. According to the salesperson, the tasty, nutrient dense morsels are like “crack to cats.”

I’ve never seen crack, but the contents of the can were as unappealing as what I would imagine crack to be. After sniffing a small amount of the selection in her bowl, Sybil just said “No” and attempted to cover. Sybil seldom bothers to cover her own waste, so this is a fair indicator of her true feelings about health food.

We are back to Sybil’s regimen of dried food supplemented with the diet challenged cheap canned food she prefers. In spite of giving the appearance of having higher social aspirations, Sybil is, as I have suspected all along, an alley cat at heart.

Note to Self: Stock up on chicken soup.