If you’ve ever shared your life with a cat (or, more likely,
been owned by one), you may wonder if I’ve lost my mind. Cats don’t think about
food??? Have I never observed the frenzy that ensues when the vacuum seal on a
can of Ocean Whitefish and Tuna is broken, you ask?
Calm down. I didn’t say cats don’t like to eat. I didn’t say
a cat would not salivate excessively over a warm mouse on a cold night. What I
said was: Cats don’t think about
food.
I think about food. All the time. What I will eat at my next
meal. What I will not eat at my next
meal. What the person next to me will eat that I will want to eat but not be
able to eat because if I do eat it I might gain weight. I think a dizzying
array of thoughts about food and all things food-related. Frankly, it’s
exhausting.
Which is why I envy my cats. You see, when there is food to
be had, my cats eat. When there is no food to be had, my cats sleep. Or play. Or
poop. If it’s Saturday morning and I happen to get up late, they will remind me
that breakfast time is past due, but it’s more a matter of being perturbed
about the disruption in their routine than anything else. There is none of the
tortured angst, the endlessly excruciating rumination, the exquisite agony that
drives me bonkers sometimes. The laid-back, laissez faire approach that my cats
exhibit towards eating makes me wonder if they might not have something to
teach me about my relationship with food.
In other words:
“Everything I need to
know about food I learned from my cats.”
Food is tasty. (Particularly bird heads. Mm, Mm, Good!)
Food is fun. (Play with your food… especially when it tries
to run away!)
Food is good. (Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we
will… sleep.)
Food is simple. (You eat, you barf, you find a sunny spot to
snooze.)
If only I could empty my head of all the neurotic cobwebs that
I’ve spun around food and eat like a cat! Life would be so uncomplicated. When
I’ve eaten too much, instead of beating myself up, I could just take a nap.
When I’ve eaten something I shouldn’t, instead of beating myself up, I could just
chase my tail. When I’ve let myself be intimidated once again into eating something
I didn’t want, instead of beating myself up, I could just lick my toes. To
translate this into human terms, I could just acknowledge what happened, pick myself
up and move forward with new resolve.
I’m sure this is not as easy as it sounds. But, hey, it’s
food for thought.
Another important food lesson learned from cats is that licking the gravy off and leaving the rest for the others is fine if that's what you feel like doing. Think of the calories we'd save if we could do that.
ReplyDeleteBen
Cats are so thoughtful that way!
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