It’s getting scary. The big empty spaces on the shelves where pet food once lived. It’s also getting a bit weird in some ways.
Buying pet food has become like a movie version of a drug deal. You walk in, see the empty shelves, track down someone who works in that department walk up to them and say, “Got any Friskies?” You have to say this very quietly, because if you score, you don’t want other people to know. But lately, the likely reply might be, “No, but I got a couple bags of Meow Mix out back”. “No good,” I reply. “She didn’t ask for it by name.”
If you’re lucky, that might happen.
Mostly it’s the cat food that could be an issue. Some dogs may be picky. My dog is not. If it’s edible, she’ll eat it. If it’s not edible, she’ll still give it a try. I spent time last weekend chasing her through the woods, trying to convince her to drop the rotting deer guts she was trying to swallow before I got my hands on her. The dog won. At least in her twisted way.
That doesn’t mean I want her to find her own meals. I would prefer she eat the far more sanitized food I provide for her.
The cat, on the other hand, is a different story. While the cat is quite capable of hunting her own food, she usually leaves such offerings for me. Then loudly demands I provide her with exactly what she seems to be describing in great detail. This is a cat who knows what she wants and has no problem telling you about any shortcomings in your performance as a cat caretaker.
There does seem to be more of the higher priced brands available, but cats don’t always care about the price. Normally, I would consider that a good thing. Now I worry she’ll just turn up her nose at it anyway.
And it probably won’t get a lot better any time soon. Not with road and rail lines to the west coast currently having rather nasty water issues.
I’ll just keep trying what foods I can find and hoping for the best. It’s pretty easy to tell when I’m wrong. I am told. Loudly. In cat.
