Scooter, February, 2010
Scooter, a former street cat, likes to eat some dry food, go off to someplace else in the house and hork up a pile. Then, later, she’ll go back to that pile and eat it.
Here’s my hypothesis- since she was rescued from a meth lab, she learned that it wasn’t always safe to eat at the food bowl and so, she would want to minimize her time there and eat more leisurely somewhere else. Now, cats don’t have pockets. So, what do you do? You scarf down as much food as you can, swallowing it quickly as possible, go to your secure and undisclosed location and hork it up in a quiet and pleasant corner.
Now, you’re still hungry, but you’re secure that you’ve got a meal stashed away for later. So, you can go back to the food bowl, where the crazy hoomans (or another cat) might interrupt your meal, secure in knowing that you’ve got FUD HIDDEN AWAY IN SEEKRET! Also, thanks to your saliva and some stomach juices, your SEEKRET FUD is no longer hard, dry kibble, but nicely soft and stinky. You are not only a clever, food-hiding cat, you are the fucking Gordon Ramsay of felines and a master chef cat! It’s not your fault that the hoomans think it’s a kitchen nightmare. I mean, they actually dump out the tuna water. Stoopid hooomans.