I made it quite clear from the start that I would not be eating off the floor in the kitchen with the other cats no matter how finely tuned they thought their pedigree was. As a royal Himalayan Lynx I clearly out ranked the moth-eaten Maine Coon...
When I first arrived at Tom Cat Towers in July 2007, it was clear that a firm paw was needed to run this household. Standards needed to be raised and it was my mission to do this. First was the catering department. This needed a real shake-up, as standards were very low.
My two feline house-mates at the time would eat anything that was put down on the floor for them and it was assumed (very wrongly) that as a rehomed cat I would be grateful for the same arrangement and join in the pathetic mewling, begging and the general free-for-all bun fight that took place when food was offered by our humans: Maid and Manservant. This fight continues today with my house-mates Willi Whizkas and Dippi-Duck; the gingie-crew.
This had to stop. As a Himalayan Lynx, I am too posh to share food with riff-raff cats, I only eat kibbles, not wet food, or food humans’ eat. So over a period of weeks, many trial and mainly errors by my new staff, I decided that I would eat only the most expensive cat-kibbles the humans could buy.
I made it quite clear from the start that I would not be eating off the floor in the kitchen with the other cats no matter how finely tuned they thought their pedigree was. As a royal Himalayan Lynx I clearly out ranked the moth-eaten Maine Coon and the other cat who were already resident here at Tom Cat Towers; I would only be dining alone in the main bedroom where I very generously allow one of my human staff, I call her ‘Maid’, to sleep in a corner of the bed at night should I require attention or food during the dark hours.
My kibbles must be served in crystal bowls on my personal buffet bar on my designer Van Cleef and Arpels Birmane red velvet shawl spread out on my Lulu Guinness duvet which states, very appropriately; ‘Glamour Girl’.
I ensure that I am served with my buffet bar before Maid even leaves the bedroom first thing in the morning. She knows that my dietary requirements are her first responsibility of the day, more important than making coffee for Manservant, my back-up member of staff, who sleeps in the small bedroom. I was therefore dismayed this evening to see Maid fill my crystal bowl with new kibbles. It has taken a lot of hard work to demand the kibbles I currently have, by means of self denial, starvation, and general huffy hissy fits. I deserve the best; only expensive kibbles for me.
However the new kibbles did smell rather interesting. But I was not going to give Maid the satisfaction of even giving them a cursory glance as I kept my eyes firmly closed.
When I was alone, I poked my delicate nose into my crystal bowl, and sniffed, before I knew it I had gobbled the kibbles down. Not a crumb was left! This was most unlike me, I have such high exacting standards and well polished manners, I never ‘gobble’ food!
I had enjoyed them so much I spent a good half hour washing my face and whiskers in the hope of traces of delicious dust on my fur. Roll on the next meal!
Dumpty is the ultimate ‘Princess Picky Pants’. She has no joy in food. We have tried everything from the most exquisitely expensive to the cheapest, vilest and nastiest in an attempt to tempt her to eat. She isn’t wild about ‘wet’ food for two reasons:-
Dumpty’s first day at Tom Cat Towers; 22 July 2007
Eventually we found a dry cat food which she will pick at, but it’s very expensive. She will not touch food which we humans eat such as chicken or tuna, and she refuses to eat in the kitchen with our other two ‘ginger’ cats: Willi Whizkas, a Maine Coon, and Serendipity Dippi-Duck (a very small, very brain damaged Persian) who we rehomed a couple of months ago.
I heard about the Purina trial and thought Dumpty may be suitable. I want to find something which she enjoys, and will do her good. I get so frustrated and desperate when she refuses to eat. Food is just a chore for her.
So, with great trepidation I opened a pack of the new trial food. Madam was curled up on the bed but managed to open one eye to see what was going on but she wasn’t going to be bothered to get up as she can be a real lazy-girl and a diva. I put her bowl of new kibbles on the bed and left her to it. When I came back, they had all gone. Of course, it is possible that Willi Whizkas, (also known as Gut Truck) our Maine Coon cat, who will eat anything (“Quantity over quality at all times” is his motto!) could have slipped into the bedroom and helped himself. That’s normally what happens when she doesn’t eat her food, even though he knows he’s banned from the bedroom!
I know for a fact it’s not Dippi-Duck, our brain damaged Persian cat, who ate them as she is still being rehabilitated after being found on the point of starvation. For weeks she would only eat packs of processed chicken, beef or ham and it was a real battle to get her to convert to proper wet cat food.
We have ‘garden guests’; cats who come into our garden. We put cat food scraps out for the hedgehogs and also Mikey-Mike, a black and white stray cat who comes round. He is desperate for food and a fuss. However, it’s first come, first served as we also have Sydney, an old ginger tom cat who lives over the road, Juicy-Lucy, a tabby and Cuticles, a ring-tailed tom who also come and help themselves to whatever’s on offer in the bowl we leave by the gate.
There are several catnip bushes dotted around the gardens here at Tom Cat Towers, including a bush from Althorp House which attract the cats especially in the summer as they are nice and cool for the cats to snooze under.