Richard Daybell – Novels, stories and short humor
Last night for dinner our cats, Vinny and Pearl, had Red Snapper and Ocean Whitefish in a Delicate Sauce. We had Hamburger Surprise. For breakfast
they had White Meat Chicken and Egg Soufflé with Garden Greens. We had cereal. Their cat food cans rival the menu at any Michelin five-star restaurant: New England Crab Cakes Entrée, Filet Mignon with Meaty Juices, Tender Turkey Tuscany in a Savory Sauce with Long Grain Rice and Greens, Red Tuna Topped with Shrimp, White Meat Chicken Primavera with Garden Veggies and Greens. I’m not making these up.
Of course, Vinny and Pearl are unimpressed by the haute cuisine we so lovingly provide for them.
You see, the marketing minds who work overtime to create these fanciful foods are not targeting the ultimate consumer, i.e., Vinny and Pearl. Vinny and Pearl don’t see this stuff advertised on TV, then come running to us, whining that every other cat in the neighborhood gets this food every day because they live with people who love them.
No, Vinny and Pearl don’t shop; they send us to the supermarket to do their dirty work for them. Those marketing minds are targeting us, rightly surmising that we would never buy what Vinny and Pearl really want – Purina Mouse Parts, Fancy Feast Dead Birds. Friskies Mole Chunks in Muddy Water. Instead the marketers parade before us:
Succulent Tidbits from the Seven Seas, dainty morsels of exotic seafood species personally prepared by steel-jawed fishermen whose yellow slickers hide hearts of gold.
Pate pour le Chat Celebre, power food for important cats, cats who do lunch.
Lite and Healthy Wholesome Feline Fare, a delicious but dietetic, low-fat, low-cholesterol, high-fiber entrée that will demonstrate your concern.
Sure, go ahead and buy these feel-good cat foods. But just be aware that unless they smell truly evil, your cat won’t touch them.