I came upstairs this morning to a not unfamiliar scene: Alice talking Gramsci through his breakfast. He's less an eater than a grazer; a cat who will take a few mouthfuls, and then wander off. But since, these days, he and Moth can't eat the same food, his bowl has to be guarded lest she makes a determined assault on forbidden sustenance (so yes, he is indeed eating on the butcher block, while she's down on the floor). So I often find Alice talking him through a meal, telling him what a splendid eater he is; how this will make him into a strong, handsome cat (Gramsci El Guapo, as one of our visitors this summer so rightly put it), and other soft nothings while he eats his way through a small, but delicious kitty-sized meal.
Oh, Gramsci! You are a very unusual cat. Can you teach our Xena to pace herself when it comes to her "food events"?
ReplyDeleteGrams simply doesn't understand cats who guzzle and guzzle (like Moth). I think he must have been very indulged in Foster. Cats with a funkier street background learn to eat their food when they find it, as quickly as possible - like children from large families.
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