IMG_20171024_205912023.jpgIt all started quite innocently.  I bought some cat food with a free gift inside the box.  A small packet of Dreamies© cat biscuit treats.  This didn’t influence my purchase – it is first about price and then, will they eat it?  They prefer chunks in jelly and are not that keen on fish.  The gravy varieties are next to useless – they lick the gravy off and leave the dry bits in the bottom of the bowl.   So meat in jelly it is.  The brand that met the criteria included the Dreamies – little did I know.

They seemed to like the food.  At least they weren’t sniffing and walking away which is the usual sign that they are not happy with what’s on offer.  Meanwhile the little bags of Dreamies were stacking up in the cupboard and so eventually I started offering a few as a bit of a treat – to mix things up a bit.

One cat has very few teeth and tends to avoid the dry food unless absolutely starving and he wants to make a point. He eats it without chewing and ends up vomiting it all back later in protest.  Lovely.  Dreamies are crunchy and I imagined the toothless tom would find them too much like hard work.  The little black and white cat – or ‘bonnie cat’ as the vet recently described her whilst almost fat-shaming my pet – enjoys chowing down on biscuits and, I suspect, prefers them to the jelly stuff.  Therefore The Dreamies were intended for her.

How wrong could I be.  There was a bit of  jostling as the Dreamies hit the bowl – which would have developed into a full-scale fight if I hadn’t opened another packet and put some in a second bowl.  They’d never had them before but somehow they just knew they were delicious and worth the effort.  Never have I seen these two fussy cats eat so readily, without interruption.  Scoffed them down – teeth or no teeth.  Thankfully there was no puking to follow.  Which was a bonus.

I didn’t realise that I was in the process of creating monsters – as if cats are not bad enough.  With the fussiness, the stubbornness, the icy condescension and rejection.  Over the weeks we continued with the small packets given away free – until they weren’t and I had to decide whether to spend money on the treat.  I love my cats but again price was the factor that pushed me over the edge – they were on offer so I stocked up.

And that is how I got my cats addicted to the feline crack cocaine that is Dreamies.

Now when I move towards the cat food cupboard I am greeted with crazed looks and howls of protestation if the Dreamies don’t make an appearance.  But I don’t want to overdose them and ruin the thrill.  Nor do I want to lose the power of the treat to coerce and control.  So I have my responsibilities – especially as I was the one that got us into this situation.

The upside for me is that if I want to get the cats off the bed, without going upstairs and prising them off the counterpane, I simply shake the bag of Dreamies and wait for the pitter-patter of paws.  I can also buy instant love by showering their food with a few Dreamies – I am then, in that moment, their god.

Problem is – it is no longer clear who is addicted to Dreamies






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