Pudding Crypts for Cookies

When we adopted Izzie (the black succubus from Hell), and Teddy later (the feline equivalent of Joey Tribiani), The Viking did a shitload of research into the best cat food versus the best price.  After developing a complex algorithm, he decided on a brand and invaded the pet store to purchase it in bulk, both dry and canned.

For three years we’ve fed the Cats the same food and everything was fine.  Until it suddenly wasn’t.  They just stopped eating the canned food one day.  I don’t know why – it smelled fine, it looked fine, the ‘best before date’ was fine, it was FINE.  According to the Cats though, it was a toxic stew that we should be ashamed to call food.  So, The Viking went back to the complex algorithm, found the next best food and invaded the pet store again.

And guess what?  They love it!  They love it so much they’re willing to trample me to death to get to The Viking as he dishes it up.

However, we still had a couple cans of the old stuff.  Personally, I was willing to just get rid of it because it was apparent that neither Cat gave a thought to being fiscally responsible.  We discussed it and they were adamant: not a single speck of the old food would pass their lips for the rest of their lives!   But nothing annoys The Viking more than wastefulness*.

So he came up with a diabolical plan that is only slightly less diabolical (only because he didn’t do it to me) than my Mother’s diabolical plans.  She used to make delicious pudding when I was a kid and then hide old, dead cookies in the bottom of the bowl and we were forced to eat it because child abuse was not quite as frowned upon as it is these days.  And now The Viking took a page out of Mom’s diabolical book and mixed the toxic stew with the new food and presented it to the Cats like it wasn’t abusive at all.

I’d like to say that both Cats noticed immediately and refused to eat it.  But, nope!  They happily chowed that crap down and licked the bowls clean and I find that reprehensible.  It’s like they compromised without a thought.  Where’s their pride?  What happened to standards and expectations?  Don’t they know they have a responsibility to the rest of us?  When they give in to tyranny once, the overlords know they’ll do it again.  And if Cats will cave, then humans will cave, too, because everyone knows that Cats have an aversion to authority that surpasses even The Viking’s aversion to authority.  It is common knowledge that if you want to take over the world the plan begins with Cats and they’d better have good catnip toys.

What they’ve done is create a world of possibilities where any atrocity is possible.  They’ve shifted the current Space/Time Continuum and we now live in an entirely different place.  A place where Mom’s diabolical Pudding Crypts for Cookies is the norm and not considered the unimaginable horror that it is.

And I can’t just ignore who kicked off this current regime of terror – The Viking!  He has become the kind of person who will hide terrible food under delicious food.  He’s become a Monster!  If he’ll betray our cats, it’s only the smallest of steps to betraying me.  How can I trust any food he makes now?  Will I find Pickled Herring masquerading as a pork chop?  Fried Liver hiding under a lovely cream sauce?  Sauerkraut disguised as Spaghetti?  Curry Meatballs pretending to be any normal kind of meatball?

I’ve given this considerable thought and my only option now is to install HD video surveillance in the kitchen.  Yes, I could sit and monitor exactly what he does when he’s cooking, but he’ll bide his time until I need to pee, or the phone rings, or another Just Energy salesman rings the front doorbell, before he slips Kale into something.  I would rather be safe than sorry, so I’ll install a Viking Cam in the Drinking Horn on the sideboard.  And then I’ll squat like Golem in a dark closet with the monitor, watching every move he makes until I can bust his ass for Food Crimes Against Humanity.

The cats are on their own, though.  The little traitors deserve every gross thing The Viking hides in their bowl because they brought this on themselves.

 

*Slow drivers in the fast lane comes in a close 2nd.

10 thoughts on “Pudding Crypts for Cookies”

  1. Hate to tell you SFAM – I’m with the Viking on this one! They are CATS – little shits have no business changing their minds on what they like just because.

    And really? You gonna try to convince me that the Viking even knows what kale is?

    1. This may come as a surprise, but Vikings have very sophisticated palates and their food is amazing. 😁 Creamy Kale is one of The Viking’s favorite side dishes. As for the cats…..who knows what they’re thinking? I love a certain 3-year-aged cheese and both cats love, love, love it. Offer them any other kind of cheese and they get all huggy and offended. 😄

      1. And lo! There is my comment! Why, pray-tell, did I NOT get notification that you answered said comment? Sigh. And would be a dear and check your settings to trust those of us who have already left you comments so that we do not require to fill in the damn name, email, website boxes? Would ya? Or is it just to me that this happens…

        Back to the response. I was totally teasing. I should have said men, in general, diss the Kale. Your cats are high maintenance.

  2. I have come to the conclusion I must not write a long response. Or put a space between sentences. And why the fuck do I have to fill in the damn form every time I leave a comment?

    1. I have tried everything I can think of to fix this bug. I’ve talked to WP support and they don’t have any thoughts either. Having said that though, maybe my blog has a hate-on for Sympatico. 🤷‍♀️ If it makes you feel any better, I check the trash several times a day so I don’t miss you. 😘😘

      1. I do appreciate the fact you check for me in the trash…

        I think I am going to try to unsubscribe and then re-subscribe. Maybe that will work.

        1. I’ve gone through my settings. There is one that says to always allow a commenter’s next comment once it has one Approved comment. I’ve checked that box, unchecked the box, re-checked the box. 🤷‍♀️ I do have a quite a number of exclusion words that will send a comment to the trash – maybe I should go through them and see if some weird combination in your email is flagged.

    1. It was Child Abuse. Mom bought cookies like Fig Newtons or Ginger Snaps so hard you had to hit them with a hammer and suck on the pieces until they softened – we weren’t allowed coffee to dip them in. 😄 If a chocolate chip cookie accidentally showed up in the house, it was a slightly more dangerous version of Golem and his Precious. 😂

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