Poor old Louis Catorze has been gorging himself silly on Orijen, with no mess whatsoever, since I started sprinkling water over to soften the pieces. On the day of writing this he’d had three breakfasts, and he’s just eating his third dinner of Cat Daddy’s drunkenly-served Orijen soup.
He seems to be finding it much easier to eat, plus he’s probably experiencing the Post-Steroid Hungries, but either way this is good news as we want him to gain weight.
At around the same time of Catorze’s messy eating, but before I knew that he had a problem with his teeth, I also noticed that he would take a mouthful of food, then stand upright to crunch. So I bought him one of those fancy tilted (and unbreakable) bowls that apparently save poor kitty from having to strain his neck downwards to eat.
However, Catorze’s buddy Sammypuss, who sent the little sod the original bowl and the back-up bowl, has very kindly offered him a third, identical one, in the extremely likely event of me smashing the back-up. And Catorze even has his friend Dexter in India scouring the local pottery market for a similar bowl, in the equally likely event of me also smashing the THIRD Sammypuss bowl. So now he has a current bowl, a new tilted bowl still in its packaging, plus half the world’s cats are also busily sourcing bowls for him.
Cat Daddy: “F***ing ridiculous.”
We all know what a cirque de merde it was the last time we changed bowls, so I certainly won’t be deploying the new one until I absolutely have to. So, for the moment, I am handling the current Sammypuss bowl very tenderly indeed, only just stopping short of lining the kitchen sink with bubble wrap before I wash it.
Anyway, Catorze is blissfully unconcerned and gives not a single hoot about his dental condition, about Bowlmageddon, about any of this. Here he is, happily gadding about outside whilst we all run ourselves ragged on his account: