Playing with food

I think that the phrase, “don’t play with your food” must have been coined by someone watching cats eat.  Mojoe has the “corner” on how to play with one’s food.  He uses it as a source of amusement not only for himself but for me too.

I feed the boys dry cat food.  It really is better for them because it prevents tartar from forming on their teeth.  Occasionally, I will give them some canned food as a treat.  However, they mostly get dry.

McGyver is all business when it comes to eating.  He starts “calling” at about 5:30 each morning.  When I say “calling” I mean that he is letting me know that he is up and it’s time to eat.  He walks through the apartment making a noise that sound like what a human playing “Marco Polo” would use.  He is determined to get louder until he wakes me up.  If I don’t get up soon enough, then he starts jumping on and off the bed until I give in and get up.

I usually come out to the kitchen where I find the food bowl in the middle of the floor.  I pick it up, empty and refill the water, which usually has little fish or chicken legs floating in it (more on this later).  I also put more dry food in the other side of the bowl.  I have a bowl that has two compartments, one for water and one for food.

I feed the cats Meow Mix.  It comes with little fishes and chicken legs.  When water is applied, they grow three times in size and become mushy.  They are really not very appetizing to me or to McGyver but Mojoe loves them that way.

After McGyver has eaten his fill, Mojoe takes over.  There is no fighting.  There is no competition.  It is an accepted process.  First McGyver eats a little, then Mojoe gets to eat.  That is when the fun starts.

Mojoe will put his paw in the dry food and extract a piece.  This, he uses as a hockey puck and pushes it across the floor franticly chasing after it.  First batting it one way and then the other.  He pounces, he jumps, he throws the food in the air.  Then, he will stop and “crunch” it.  After a few seconds, he grabs another piece and the game is on again.

When Mojoe tires of chasing his food, he starts putting it in the water.  There he lets it sit until it swells and gets soft.  Then he “fishes” it out and eats it.  He will even wait until I empty the water into the sink and fish the mortsels out of the drain. 

When he tires of dunking his food, he then starts dragging the dish around the kitchen floor.  I will find splashes of water here and there.  I find bits of food all over.  I am not sure why he moves the bowl.  Maybe it’s because he wants a different point of view when he eats.  Or maybe he just does it because he can.  Or maybe he is imagining that he is actually hunting down prey before the “kill”.

Regardless of the reason why he does what he does with his food, Mojoe has playing with his food down to an art.

Watching The Fur Fly

I have always heard the phrase above.  I have often imagined what that must look like.  Watching fur fly for a heated battle.  Well, I got to experience it first hand.  My boys are really getting serious about this WFF thing.

McGyver has been talking smack to Mojoe so much that good old Moe decided to take him up on the threats.  On Saturday morning, I witnessed Mojoe chase McGyver around and around the house.  Each time he caught Mac, he would jump on the boy with full fledged furry.  Mac was hissing and slapping to no avail.  There were even a few caterwals that could only be described as someone crying “Uncle”.  Those were made to no avail, Moe was going to get his point across.

I never thought that Moe was the stronger of the two.  I still don’t think he is.  However, he is the craftier and more determined of the two.  It may be because Mac outweighs him by a few pounds.  It may be that he just got tired of all the teasing.  I don’t know what caused him to be so determined to get his point across…but I think he did so.

Things are back to normal here at the apartment.  Well, at least what one can call normal for us.  The only exception is the Mac is not teasing Moe as much.  I think he has learned his lesson on that subject.

WFF Update

Thought I would give you all an update on the current WFF, World Federation of Felines, sports organization.  The boys have been working to create a new sport…it is to be half boxing and half wrestling.  It is interesting watching them develop this new sport.  There are many trials and errors to determine which moves work best together.

So far, I can give you a sketch of what it will ultimately be like.  The match starts out with the boys boxing with each other.  The face each other and sit on their hind legs and swat at each other with their paws.  Or some times, they stand and box with one paw. 

Each of them takes and gives a few blows before one of them will jump over the other’s head and make a run for it.  This is just a ploy though.  The runner will suddenly turn and face his opponent and catch him in surprise.  With ears back and tail switching with determination, the runner is ready for the full face attack.  The pursuer is caught off guard because he expects a chase.  He is faced with slowing down and preparing for a crash.

When the crash happens, they each grab for purchase on the other.  The fall over and begin to wrestle.  Here is where they practice many of their holds to see which one works best.  They also bite and scratch.  The ultimate goal is to grab a throat hold and force the other into submission.

There is a count one is declared the winner.  Then they separate and begin the process all over again.  They try this sport on all types of surfaces….the bed, the floor, the couch, the cat tree, the kitchen counter, the bathtub…  You name it, they have tried it.

It seems that surprise attack is one of the aspects that they are still working out.  How this part will work as part of a spectator sport, I am not sure.  However, the art of surprise is definitely part of the process.  A farovite place is in the bathroom behind the shower curtain.  That can be a disadvantage if one tries to push the other into the tub.  This is especially dangerous if the person happens to be in the shower and the water is running.  I think that is like counting coup for Indians. 

I am still not sure how the point system works.  I am also not sure how many matches you have to win to be declared champion.  Those details are still being worked out.  Hopefully soon, I will be able to provide a score card.

The Bigger They Are The Harder They Fall

At least that is my experience lately.  My two teenage boys…(the cats that is) certainly make a huge thud when they do their acrobatics and wrestling all over the floor.   They lay in wait one for the other.  McGyver gives up first.  Usually he will start calling Mojoe who could care less.  Mojoe will make McGyver jealous by interacting with me.  He will bring a toy to me or simply curl up in my lap and look contentedly at McGyver.  “See mom loves me best….”

They have gotten over their fear of “going bye bye” too.  Now their toys litter the floor as if they were never picked up and placed away.  Mojoe has his favorit mouse.  McGyver’s favorite is anything Mojoe is playing with.  Mojoe is more inventive.  He has this way of looking when he is thinking something through.  That head of his tips to the side.  I am sure that if he had a hand he would have his chin in the plam while he thinks through a situation.

McGyver is more the type that just gets into the middle of something and figures it out while he is working through it.  He is definitely more fearless.  However, his “devil may care” attitude can get him into trouble with his “fools rush in” mode of operation.  Somehow he always looks like he ‘meant” to do what ever turns out.

On the 4th, I had a friend over.  He has a greyhound.  We walked down to the festivities in Davidson and then came back to the apartment.  He brought Mia with him.  It is amazing how many people will talk with you if you have a dog.  “Note to self….get Ranger Dog”

Anyway, he brought Mia into the apartment.  She walked around and checked the place out.  Of course the “boys” disappeared before the door was even opened.  As the evening wore on, Mia made herself at home and stretched out on the floor.  Although she gave off a relaxed attitude, she was aware of the other furry things that lived in my apartment.

After a while, McGyver came out of the bedroom and did a cursory cruise of the living area.  He took a few sniffs, stretched out his neck to see what that “thing” was and settled down under the endtable.  Every so often, McGyver would stand up and go over to the other side of the room to see if the “thing” had moved.

To Mia’s credit, she acted like a perfect little lady.  No barking at all.  She did not even try to chase the kitties.  To McGyver’s credit, there was no hissing or slapping.  He simply checked out Mia and took up his post beside me.

It was much like the don’t ask, don’t tell policy.  Don’t ask what “it” is and don’t tell “it” I’m here.  I think both of them adopted that mode of thinking.  Mojoe, on the other hand, hid under the covers like an ostritch hiding his head in the sand.  “If I can’t see it, it can’t see me.”