This is my restaurant, my centre of action, only second to my sleeping place. The bowls are always filled and never empty. This was one of the stipulations I made when Mrs. Human moved over to make room for me. I told her that I like my life to be organised and do not have patience to wait. Unfortunately she was under the impression that as long as the bowl was full it was enough, but it depends on what it is filled with.
As you can see in this case the bowl is filled with the tasteless vitamin pellets. I put my paw down about this and so there is a third bowl, reserved for the tuna fish, although only served now and again. Mrs. Human finds that each meal is a feast for me, there are other cats that have to hunt for their food. She does not realise that hunting is part of the fun. She is not very clear about this. I have brought her a share of my hunting trophies, now and again a mouse, but she throws them away in the garbage. No appreciation of my efforts and I was inviting her to a feline feast.
Now and again she throws me samples of her food. Today I got a piece of cordon bleu, meat fried with cheese in a sort of a crumbled layer of bread. Even the name could not be pronounced in meow. Now the meat was OK, but I really do not have the patience to perform a autopsy to find the meat beneath various strange textrures and felines do not eat cheese, at least this one does not. She could have prechewed it before throwing it at my paws. That is another problem. She does not realise that we felines eat with our eyes and a lump of indescribable human food does not exactly invite.
A feast? OK, where is the steak, preferably rare. You see, humans have no idea.