He was in Walmart, a store that he detests and avoids, but here he was, because he was being supportive. While there, WTH, the thinking goes, look at the cat food offerings and prices to update his mental database of such things. This is mostly because the little cat is ill. Always a picky eater, his disease has exacerbated this, so cans are opened for the little feline to pick his way through. Some are more successful than others, but his usual favorites have been soundly rejected. New flavors are required.
So he’s in the aisle, examining prices and offerings beside a couple who are about fifteen years older than him (he thinks), making them in their late seventies. The woman says, “Chicken and waffle cat food.”
Before thinking can be processed, his mouth is engaged. “No way. Really? You have to be making that up.”
She points out the package and he examines it. The three agree, it’s an absurd idea. None of them are buying it,
They talk, of course, about their cats’ eating habits, and how all are picky eaters. The man relates a tale about one cat.
The man loves the shrimp he buys at Costco. So does the cat, who gets aggressive about it, trying to steal it out of his hand and off his plate when he’s eating. He gives the cat some, of course, because he’s a human, and the cat is in charge. Yes, clearly. We all know this.
But, here is the punch line. The cat won’t touch any cat food with shrimp in it.
“Figures,” the man says, walking away. “Cats, right?”