My dog Ella loves cat food. To her it’s a delicacy.
Ella went with us to Kansas City where we visited a friend who owns a cat named Gracie. Ella approached Gracie, tail a wagging. The feline was reserved.
As the humans visited, we lost track of our animal children. Then we heard it.
“Hiss! Spat! Smack!”
We turned to see the cat retract as the dog slid across the entryway floor. An investigation told the story.
Ella had sniffed out Gracie’s bowl of cat food and devoured every last morsel. She was still licking her muzzle to erase the evidence. But the cat knew the dog’s crime and was not pleased.
There’s something in cat food Ella finds irresistible.
The higher protein content? The smell of fish? The fact that it’s not for dogs?
She’s been known to raid litter boxes and ingest deposits left in our yard by cats traveling through, all for trace amounts of that something. We stop her the second we catch her in this undignified behavior. We scold her. But the temptation is too great.
She gets dog food. Good dog food. The expensive kind we have to buy from the veterinarian. She ignores it until she’s sure there will be no table scraps, no milk in the bottom of cereal bowls after breakfast, and no cat food.
Gracie’s mom Janis thinks I need to get a cat. All true writers have a cat, she says. Low barrier to entry. I can do this one.
Besides, my son wants a Siamese cat named Bill or an orange tabby named Teddy. I could probably talk him into a gray named Louie. If only we could convince my husband, the cat magnet who insists he doesn’t like cats.
Ella votes with her eyebrows (terriers have eyebrows) and ears.
“Would you like a puppy?” No response.
“A bunny?” Slight ear prick.
“How about a cat?” Her eyebrows and ears stand at attention.
“Yes,” they say, “with cat food, please.”
Temptation comes from our own desires, which entice us and drag us away. James 1:14 NLT
What’s your cat food?