Our cat has always had "issues" about food--she was abandoned and homeless, then dropped at a rescue where the other cats terrified her, then she found us--for 18 years now. For 18 years she's believed she will be put on the street and must eat. Obviously, childhood memories don’t go away with lots of love. Yesterday I cooked up the turkey carcass, but my SIL had done such a great job of cleaning it, there wasn't a lot left for casseroles or soup. So I chopped up the bits of skin, meat and fat after straining it thinking I'd dole it out to Lotza over the week-end. She demanded the whole thing! This morning she slept until 5 a.m. (instead of 3) in a turkey stupor. Now she's turning her nose up at the canned Friskies turkey. She's just staring at me, which if you've ever had a cat, you know the look.
Cats like to stir the water in their bowl, so her bowl is very heavy and says, “Dog.” When she would spill it on the marble, we couldn’t see it.
This is her favorite napping spot. . . my husbands’ legs. Once she moves to our bed, she likes to sleep on my legs. She’s really not very large, maybe 6.5 lbs, so she a heat seeker.
Other turkey/cat stories: