The Grass is Greener

I have three cats. I know. I know. Three?!? What am I thinking? Honestly, I often wonder that myself. Wonderment aside, I still have three cats. Buster is my cantankerous senior citizen. A 17 year old garden variety black and white domestic shorthair who was free to a good home Bonzai and Boomer are my 18 month teen-age Birmans. They were not free to a good home as evidenced by the balance in my checkbook. You pay a lot for bright blue eyes and sure thing personalities.

First a digression. For reasons which are still unclear we decided to name all our cats “B” names. It’s hard to find good “B” names and even harder to not call them by the wrong names. At any one time I’m still calling out “Bonkers” who sadly crossed the Rainbow Bridge last year. If you’re not a pet person the term “Rainbow Bridge” will be lost in translation. It’s a poem about pets that have passed on. Non-pet people will think its sentimental tripe. I am a die hard pet person and it makes me cry every time I read it.

Because my life isn’t complicated enough (insert sarcasm here) my cats have different diets. This has led to “meal feeding” instead of “keeping food out all the times to make my life easier feeding”. So three times a day we have this little routine where the kitty dishes are pulled out of the cupboard, cans opened, dry kibble mixed with wet food to make a delightful taste sensation all while being serenaded by an endless chorus of meows. Not soft gentile pleasant meows. More like "hurry the hell up and feed me" meows. We’re very vocal in our house. We know what we want and when we want it.

The dishes go down. Each kitty is spaced apart so they have some private dining time and the eating begins. It’s all very serious business. Head down, don’t talk to me …I’m eating.

And then IT invariably happens.

The realization that what “he” has must be better then what “I” have! This is bona fide grass is greener syndrome albeit kitty style.

Under normal circumstance the overseer of the feeding chaos, which 99% of the time is me, wouldn’t bat an eyelash over Boomer eating Busters food or Buster eating Bonzai’s food. But if you’ve ever had the pure joy of a vet bill that has a “comma” in the final total – you quickly embrace the importance of diet to manage a health problem.

Redirecting a determined cat is an exercise in futility. There is no redirection. They are the animal version of a toddler. Redirection works for about 4 seconds.

Kitty dynamics’ is quite humorous. Food antics aside there is an abundance of muscling, posturing and the occasional smack with a paw upside the head to secure the best spot. The best sunny spot in the house. The best back of the couch spot to catch the breeze from the ceiling fan. The best kitty condo spot for bird watching. And after all is said is done – after the best spot is procured…the victor is content for approximately 12 minutes. And it begins again. Eyeing up the next best spot that they don’t currently occupy.

At this point you’re probably thinking I’m going to draw some cheese-ball analogy between the similarities of feline coveting behavior and human coveting behavior. But it would be really cheese-ball in a gag me with kitty paw kind of way. I’m not interested in the “moral of the story is blogging” – at least not today. Honestly – I just think it’s so darn funny how they posture and position themselves for a slightly different version of kibble or 5 additional inches of sun space.

And well it is Friday and I promised lighter blogging fare and you don’t get much lighter and fluffier then cat antics. So Meow. It’s feeding time. Let the posturing begin.