But over the past few years, knowing a few people with cats has cured me of this kitty discrimination. Jo's (or Ogs as you may know her from numerous other posts) cats, Mornington and Lucy, in particular seem to do quite well in getting along with their fishy neighbours Roger, Didger and Co. This is quite impressive really, given that they are prone to dragging in the odd mouse, sparrow, and even pigeons.
This may be partly due to Jo's strategic positioning of the fish tank....right on the edge of a ledge where the cats can't easily reach round to flip up the lid without suffering a decidedly ego-bruising plummet onto the sofa. However, we all know that cats are pretty stubborn, and if they really wanted to they could get into that fishtank. A relatively easy alliance seems to exist betwixt them.
Quite remarkable given that just yesterday Jo and I were treated to this spectacle:
That would be Lucy, attempting with all her might to squeeze her entire head into the fishfood container, lapping up the morsels at the bottom. So desperate was her struggle that she almost suffocated herself (a couple of times she quite clearly had to come up for air, given enough time she'd have evolved a blowhole I'm sure) and pierced Jo's hand in the process.
Jo eventually retreated, for fear of losing her fingers, whereupon Lucy resorted to dipping her paw in to get to the rest. This was after she'd tried snuffling the pot along the shelf and only succeeded in almost tipping it off the edge.
I've always known the cats were partial to a few fishy flakes. We always take the mick out of Mornington for being a bit stupid, bless her heart, but that cat knows the sound of the fishfood container lid coming off. She can hear it from a hundred yards, she can hear it from the end of the shared garden with all the windows closed. Despite being slightly overweight that cat can move like greased lightning when she wants to, with a brief pause to squeeze her shapely behind through the catflap she's there in 3 seconds flat.
Fishy flakes...second only to catnip.
When Jo's away and I'm looking after the flat, it's gotten to the point where I deliberately feed the cats first so they're distracted, turn up the telly and then very carefully and quietly open the fishfood. It's the only way I can perform the feat in safety.
The only thing I can say is....Jo, you'd better hope those cat's don't realise that Roger tastes like a large, moist fishy flake. You'll have all out war on your hands!