That Irresistible Something

My late good friend Tucker used to join me at the dining table for meals. He liked my company, I am sure, but that at meals was for a more practical reason. The roly poly liked pretty much anything a human ate, and was certain of at least a morsel from my dish.

Moxie shares some of the Tuxter’s characteristics; a fat head, for example. The Mixer also joins me for meals. But he disappoints himself more often than not, for he doesn’t care for much of the food I eat. It smells and looks appetizing; the fact that I am consuming it must mean something to him. But offers of chicken, beef, gravy, the rare taste of ice cream; none of these appeal to him when they are brought forward. But pork is something else.

The high fat content of pork may be the difference, the aroma that may be stronger to a cat, the texture… Who can say? A cube of roasted cutlet, a bit of fried ham; the pork can be in any form, and it won’t be denied a place between Moxie’s teeth.

But his attraction to pork may be something else, something more calculated. After all, I never refuse him a piece. Why? Because he doesn’t care for anything else. So when pork is on the menu, he is undoubtedly going to receive some. I won’t withhold the one human food that he likes. There in may be the plan.

One never knows what’s going on in the feline mind.