Captain Casey's Deprived Life

I've turned my cat into something of a freak. I've just realized it. I really don't think it has a whole lot to do with his humiliating name—Captain Casey Fisheypants—but I guess that could have contributed a little. Or it might be that he was a dog in a previous life and didn't quite get over those residual doggy behaviors. He lays down on his back by the door when someone comes over, waiting for his belly to be rubbed. He fetches balls and mice and plastic spiders. He follows me around the house and comes when I call. He even opens a drawer by himself to get his toys out.

Here is the weird thing though. Captain Casey doesn't stir when I open a can of tuna. Doesn't even budge. Because he's never had anything but the hard, dry cat food, he doesn't even know that tuna is a cat's ambrosia of the gods. And tuna aside, he's never even had a chance at that smelly (but obviously extremely delicious) wet cat food in a can. So when I open a can of anything, it holds no meaning for him whatsoever.

Tonight I made all the requisite can opening noises thinking that at any moment he would come running. Nothing. I wafted the smell of tuna around the kitchen. Still nothing. I scraped the tuna out of the can loudly. Not a thing. He just licked his paws and cleaned his ears and looked at me with a bored and contemptuous look on his face like "What?"

So I tempted him with a piece of tuna right by his nose. Still nothing. He sniffed, then turned up his nose, stepped over the tuna and nibbled at the hard dry stuff in his bowl. I'm thinking something is wrong here. So I tried some soft cat treats I had. Nope. He had absolutely no interest. He's truly convinced that hard dry cat food is the only thing worth eating.

Too bad I ever tasted anything other than broccoli. It's way too late for me. I've already had chocolate.