Food seems to be a shared obsession in my house.
Not only do PH and I have food issues, but our dog and cat constantly act like they have never been fed, ever.
Inexplicably Loved Cat is possibly the worst offender. When he was 12 weeks old, he stole a hunk of gouda out of the fridge, took off with it down the hall, had the plastic wrap off of it and ate most of it before Perfect Husband chased him down.
He is particularly obsessed with carbs, especially corn based products. If you have a bag of Smart Food, you cannot get him off of your lap.
It’s totally bizarre, because cats are carnivores, who don’t even digest carbohydrates properly. It’s like a horse being obsessed with meat.
Anyway, Owl has learned that his food just isn’t safe if he leaves it unattended.
After a couple of traumatic incidents where he returned to his cereal bowl to find that the food had disappeared, Owl has become hypervigilant about the cat.
If he needs to go potty while eating, he spends the entire time worrying about his food.
“Kitty no eat my food!”
“I won’t let Kitty eat your food. He’s not even in the room.”
“NO EAT MY FOOD, KITTY!”
“Owl, honey, he’s not even here. Let’s go potty.”
While he’s peeing he will point warningly at the slumbering cat and said “YOU STAY! NO EAT MY FOOD!”
“He is asleep. He isn’t eating your food.”
“No eat my food. No! STAY ‘WAY!”
“He is UNCONSCIOUS. YOUR FOOD IS SAFE.”
Owl is under the assumption that our cat is a ravenous beast, willing to consume anything and everything. Much like Owl, in a way.
If Inexplicably Loved Cat sniffs ANYTHING, Owl will storm in saying “No, Kitty! No eat it!”
The cat has been warned off from eating Owl’s coat, Owl’s hat, Owl’s boots, THE COUCH, and even the TV remote control, which Owl felt was in such peril from the cat’s depredations that he personally chased the cat away from it.
Between the cat eating our electronics and the dog drinking Owl’s pee, apparently nothing is safe from the ravenous appetites of the inhabitants of this house.
It’s surprising we still have a roof over our head, really.
We’re starting baby proofing this weekend, because Babby is starting to figure out how to wriggle forward. So far, it’s a matter of inches, but we feel that the end of stay-put baby days is nigh.
But in the meantime, I’ll continue to be amused by his repeated attempts to do the butterfly on dry land.