EAT THE FOOD

My cats are the worst when it comes to reason. They yell at birds and bugs from inside the double-paned window and across the street. They are afraid of everything noisy or strange but still want to escape out the door constantly. They are just cats, with cat brains.

And yet.... they aggressively scratch the couch, but know not to try when I'm around. They respond to their names. They will just as soon as bite off your hand when it comes to taking pills (they really will, they lock their jaws shut, convinced it's poison), growling and scratching all the way. They know water comes from the faucet- she will jump into the tub and leap around, yelling loudly as though she's convinced her life depends on it until you turn it on for her to drink from.

But put a pill in food and they will starve themselves rather than have to eat the odd-tasting version. Right now they are staring at a concoction of their favorite treats plus pill lovingly dissolved within as if it were the vilest insult I could offer.

They do the seemingly impossible. They have taught themselves to open cupboards and doors without the use of opposable thumbs. They can climb up and down a seventy-degree ladder to the loft. While trying to put myself to sleep a couple nights ago, I watched a cat silhouette drop off the edge of the sleeping loft and then heard a dull thud as he plummetted to the couch seven feet below.

Why can't they just eat the food? They are hungry and have indicated they know it's food. Right now they are taking turns hiding in a bag, eating the nasty dried up remains of oat grass, and staring at the bowl plaintively mewing.

EAT THE FOOD