Okay, so I bought these fancy "gourmet" cat treats: a buck-fifty, but I had a
50-cent coupon and Safeway doubled it, so my actual net outlay was only 50
cents, but Clementine doesn't know that, does she? She's supposed to be
impressed by the elegant black pouch they came in and the fact that they're
crunchy little pillows with creamy centers, "Roasted Chicken" flavored, and
anyway, lately she's been willing to eat pretty much anything because she's
been on a weight-loss regimen for almost a year now and she's ravenous all the
time.
I brought them into the house and opened the package immediately, thinking to
impress my darling with the depth of my devotion. Well, don't you know the
ungrateful beast won't touch them? She did*** the first one I offered her and
made a couple of half-hearted attempts to pick it up, but they're too big for
her dainty little mouth, or something. The next day I tried them in our
morning game, which involves skittering treats across the smooth kitchen and
front hall floors so she can chase, capture and eat them. She chased and
captured, but then perceived that what she had caught was one of the unworthy
new treats; she gave me The Look over her shoulder, then turned 180 degrees and
sat on the thing. I'm slow, but I get there eventually. I realize that Clemmie
is Not Going To Eat these things. Darned Cat!
Postscript: I gave the rejected treats to a friend, who lives with one Supreme
Being and two d-pets; Samantha Jane, orange tabby, sniffed them and made the
"Are You Trying to Poison Me?!" face, but the d*gs consumed them with relish.