Remember the headless mouse that Louis Catorze left for his papa during their lads’ weekend? I have since discovered that Cat Daddy didn’t realise it was headless, despite being the one who disposed of it (?). It was only when I told him to zoom in on the photo he’d sent me at the time, that he realised.
Him: “So where’s the head?”
Where, indeed? The popular opinion is that Catorze ate it, but this would be the first time in his life that he’s ever done such a thing. He’s a mutilator, not an eater; think Buffalo Bill rather than Hannibal Lecter.
The other incongruous part of the story is that the mouse had a clump of Catorzian fur attached to one of its front paws (which Cat Daddy also didn’t notice until reviewing the photo). Is this the rodent equivalent of skin scrapings under the victim’s fingernails … or a creepy serial killer calling card, the way that The Night Stalker drew pentagrams or BTK wrote those weird poems?
In what we desperately hope is unrelated news, since Catorze decided that he does, after all, like wet food (is prey “wet food”?) after a lifetime of telling everyone that he didn’t, it seems that his 9,073 existing bowls will no longer do. He seems to have problems eating pieces of wet food from the edges, either because his snout is too fat get to them or because he is too thick to see that they’re there. Even the tilted bowl that I bought for him a couple of years ago seems problematic.
I have no idea what on earth prevents him from eating wet food from his bowls when he was perfectly able to eat dry food from the same bowls, but then nothing about him has ever made sense. Therefore, in many ways, this is no surprise.
So I bought another bowl. Yes, ANOTHER one. I had hoped to sneak it past Cat Daddy without him noticing but, as bad luck would have it, he was here when it arrived.
Him: “What’s in that parcel?”
Me: “Erm … promise you won’t be angry?”
Him: “It had better not be anything to do with cats.”
[Silence, tumbleweed, crickets.]
Him: “So what is it, then?”
Me: “It’s a bowl for Louis.”
Him: “[Unrepeatable Expletives.]”
Me: “But he’s struggling to eat out of his existing bowls.”
Him: “HE HAS SO MANY BOWLS. What are we going to do with the others?”
Me: “Erm … ahem … we could use them for ourselves?”
Him: “[Unrepeatable Expletives of the Worst Kind.]”
Luckily the little sod loves this bowl. Because it’s raised, tilted and curved, it places less stress on his creaky old bones and no bits can get stuck anywhere. However, after one feed, he still likes all the bits scooped back together into a pile in the middle. (Lizzi, if you are reading this, this is your fault.) And he also likes the pieces of fish cut up small. It seems he is not able to eat widely-strewn food pieces, nor can he chew pieces larger than 0.6cm², yet he can catch mice and rip their heads off. I know.
So all is now well with the world. Or, at least, it will be until I buy more bowls.
We bought this bowl from the wonderful Katzenworld. If your cat would like one, have a look here.
louiscatorze.com 
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