Phase Une of Opération G-T-L-S-O-N-F-W-H-N – which involves giving Louis Catorze a serving of his old Acana Pacifica topped with a scant garnish of the new Lily’s Kitchen Fabulous Fish – began on Sunday. It was most satisfying to tear the top strip from the packet of Lily’s Kitchen and put it straight into the compost. The excuse that others give for not using compostable packaging is that it’s not robust enough to protect the food but, let’s face it: cats are pretty gross. They happily chow down on maggot-infested road kill and suchlike, so I’d imagine that the possibility of their wholesome, natural biscuits becoming exposed to air/dirt/bugs is the least of their worries. 

The Lily’s Kitchen biscuits (the golden-coloured triangular bits) are different in shape and colour from the Acana Pacifica. This was not going to help in my mission to combine them invisibly. And, given Louis Catorze’s abysmal track record for doing what I want him to do when I want him to do it, I was nervous. 

And I was right to be nervous, because, to my utter dismay, the little sod delicately picked off the Lily’s Kitchen garnish but left the Acana Pacifica. Quel fichu salaud.

Cat Daddy: “So he likes the new food? That’s good, isn’t it? Just give him that. No need to do this slow phasing.”

I told him that I would NOT be wasting the huge amount of Acana Pacifica that we still had left, nor would I be responsible for any, erm, digestive episodes that took place as a result of a too-rapid change in food. (We did this when Catorze first came to live with us, before we knew that slow phasing was a thing, and he was a prolific puker back then. Luckily, it was usually on the floor rather than on the carpet. And, on the only occasion that he projectile-vomited on our bed whilst we slept, it was all on Cat Daddy’s side.)

Cat Daddy again: “So now we’re going to have to force him to eat food that we want him to eventually stop eating?”

It would appear that way, yes.

Anyway, I tried hiding some of the Lily’s Kitchen under the Acana Pacifica, but, like a truffling pig, Catorze still managed to unearth it, leaving the rest untouched. Then I hit upon the idea of crushing up some of the Lily’s Kitchen and scattering it over so that everything tasted of it. A seasoning rather than a garnish, if you will. 

And … BINGO. 

I will not be outsmarted by a cat, and a stupid one at that.

(That wasn’t supposed to rhyme.)