Words to describe this writer: humiliated, chagrined, mortified…name a variant of embarrassed and it’s name is Deb

I stumbled upon something today. All in all I believe it will be a good thing. However, it is a thing that causes me great embarrassment. Because of this, I am only sharing with a few of you, my most loyal and non-judgmental readers.

Deep breath…

Think for a moment to my many, many posts related to the senile old cat living in my home. Think to the many, many stories related to the fact that she, almost overnight, stopped eating her dry cat food. The same brand of cat food that she had been eating for years. Think to the struggles I have been describing related to her incessant need to yowl pitifully at 3 AM, simply because she wanted to eat…wet food, not dry food. Think to my stories of 8 PM bedtime just to have any chance at a normal nights sleep. Think about the months, and months, and months that this has been our routine.

This morning, while shopping for groceries, I decided (on a whim) to purchase a small pouch of cat food. A new brand of cat food. A dry version of a popular wet cat food that can be found in tiny single serving cans. Fancy Feast dry cat food to be exact. This pouch caught my eye simply because it was a pouch rather than a humongous bag. It was $2.00 for the pouch. The pieces are small and round. The flavor: a chicken and beef combo.

“Why not,” I said to myself. “If she ignores it like the old brand I’ll just pass it on to Miss G’s kitty.”

I came home. The cat was still sleeping soundly and being deaf, she didn’t hear me put some of the new food onto a small plate by her water dish.

At 12:30 she woke up. From the next room I heard a strange sound. A sound that I haven’t heard in months.

It was a light, rather delicate sound. A tinkling, crisp sound. I realized what the sound was.

The cat was eating the new dry cat food. The sounds being made were the pieces of food hitting the plate as they fell from her mouth because she was unable to get the food into her mouth fast enough.

She ate the entire plate full. She looked up at me, because by that time I was standing near her with disbelief on my face, licked her whiskers and marched off back to bed. She slept for two more hours. Two hours that normally would find her following me, yowling and begging and pleading for wet food.

I looked at daughter Alison. She looked back at me and laughed.

By the time the cat got up again I had put a bit more dry food out, just to test the theory. She ate everything that I had put out a second time. She went outside.

“A real test is needed,” I thought. As it was her ‘normal’ time to eat, I put some wet food out, and let her back inside. She simply walked past the wet food plate. She was full, content, and happy. At this moment she is curled in her bed, asleep. Damn cat.

I feel like an idiot.

**May I just share also that I secretly hope that this is the end solution, however…I will believe nothing is certain unless days go by with the same results. 




4 thoughts on “Words to describe this writer: humiliated, chagrined, mortified…name a variant of embarrassed and it’s name is Deb”

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