Where the Wild Cats Are

Disclaimer: This is a blog entry about my cats. Yep.

99% of the time, Biddy and Walter act like domesticated cats. They sleep on cushions, pillows, and laundry. They daintily slurp water out of a brownie pan (note to self: That’s where the brownie pan is that you were looking for the other day). They stare out the window, curious but completely protected from the dangers that await outside like Grocery Bag Caught on Telephone Wire and Small Child Getting Out of Minivan.

That’s their life, and they seem pretty fine with it. This is their home–a cushy, temperature controlled condo in St. Louis.

But sometimes, when I least expect it, the wild comes out.

When it happens, I’m reminded that I’m keeping animals in my house. This is not exactly what Mother Nature intended. Mother Nature invented cats to prowl around the savanna, stalking antelope and hunting with their pride. Mother Nature didn’t realize that I would one day give my cats a spoonful of Breyer’s vanilla bean ice cream as a treat.

But like I said, sometimes the wild comes out, and I’m fascinated by it. Here’s what happened:

I’ve mentioned here that back in August, Biddy stopped eating. He underwent a barrage of medical exams, and he was diagnosed with a food allergy, diabetes, and cuteness. The first two are somewhat curable.

So I’ve been feeding him this special hypoallergenic food for months now. I keep it on the kitchen counter where it’s easy for me to dilute with water, because when he developed the allergy, he developed a strong aversion to dry food.

Biddy’s behavior has also changed a big since August. He used to follow me everywhere like a dog. He was always in the same room as me–I’m usually in the office, and he’s usually in the office too. He’s a social animal.

But for the last few months, he only comes to the office when he wants to play. Which is pretty adorable, mind you. Out of nowhere he’ll come trotting to my chair with a rubber band in his mouth, ready to play fetch. Otherwise, though, he’s in the living room, which is separated from the kitchen by a marble countertop.

Fast forward to last night. Last night Walter ate the last of his dry food. Walter’s been working on this particular bag of dry food since last August, and he finally finished it off (he’s a fastidious eater). Biddy has had no interest in his food, as I suspect it’s the food that gave him the food allergy.

So last night I opened a new bag of food for Walter, this all-natural chow from Purina. I put it down where Walter eats, in the corner of my office.

Biddy. Went. Crazy.

You would have thought he’d never seen food before. He started scarfing it down. I got worried that he was just going to throw it back up, so I hid it in several different locations, but Biddy kept figuring out creative ways to get to the food. There was no stopping this guy.

Eventually he calmed down and starting eating at a normal pace. That was 24 hours ago. He hasn’t left the office since, which struck me as odd, because as I mentioned, he’s spent most of the last few months in the living room right next to the kitchen…right next to his wet food.

Then it hit me: Biddy is protecting his food.

This is the little bit of savanna cat coming out in Biddy. He’s protecting his hard-fought kill, the elusive Purina-brand chow.

He’s even willing to make the ultimate sacrifice–nap on Walter’s futon, as shown on the photo below (the food is just to the lower right of the futon, near Biddy).

If you have a pet, have you ever seen his or her wild side? Tell me about it.

Biddy couch Walter

4 thoughts on “Where the Wild Cats Are”

  1. Yes! I used to have a rabbit name Ramona. She sadly passed away a year ago, but she would usually spend her days running around my apartment, frequently jumping on the back of my couch so she could lick my face, and in case you haven’t experienced it, bunny kisses are just about the cutest kisses you’ll ever receive. However, every once in a while, usually when I was moving furniture or other large objects, she would hop under the bed and slam her foot into the ground, creating a surprisingly loud THUMP! I realized she was doing this because she thought she was in danger, and she was warning her companions (aka me, her best friend) to take cover! Really adorable and sweet of her, and it always surpised me that she still had this instinct, even though she lacked almost all other rabbit instincts, including the instinct to be afraid of my dog (please note: the dog is not the reason that Ramona is no longer with us). On a side note, I think the way you constantly work your cats into your posts is hilarious, and I really enjoy it. Maybe because I can relate, as I would often tell people all of my noteworthy bunny stories, even though I’m sure others were more concerned that she had just chewed up their shoe than the fact that she was now kissing their cheek to make up for it. Pets. are. great.

    • Lindsay: That is adorable! I like how your rabbit’s natural instincts kicked in and that she included you among those she needed to warn.

      I’m glad you appreciate the cat references in this blog. 🙂

  2. Best post ever. But why are you feeding a diabetic cat ice cream? The diabetic bear has not figure out a cure for diabetes yet. Please refrain yourself from feeding cute diabetic cat ice cream. Cuddles and playing fetch are better. 🙂


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