During our enforced, unnecessary and frankly ignominious incarceration at Howarth Cat Rescue my brother and I had to content ourselves with whatever fayre was presented to us. As you will no doubt surmise this ranged through the whole gamut of cheaper end cat food. I understand of course that the poor things were doing their best to provide a substantial meal but please, to think that I, Pixie Poo Poo should have to resort to such measures. Well, it simply doesn't bear the proverbial.
Then, one day (I believe it was a Sunday) some people arrived and after much simpering and mauling on their behalf my brother and decided that they should be allowed to take us from that place. To be fair to them, they did and here I am now on my own boat. But, can you imagine my horror when on the journey to Dowley Gap they stopped off at Aldi. ALDI! Of All places! Not Marks and Sparks but Aldi for crying out loud. I let it go at the time as I was in a rather cramped position in a basket (oh the humiliation). The man went into the shop whilst the woman - Ange remained in the car to simper some more at us. When we finally arrived at my boat I was incensed to notice that he had purchased a brand of cat food known as Vitacat. Vita-bloody-cat! I ask you. Again, to keep the peace, I let it go and gradually, over time, they learned to correctly provide us with Whiskas.
That all sounds well and good doesn't it but I'm a discerning cat with a sophisticated palate and well, (I'll just cut to the chase here), I'm bored of Bite 'n' Chew now and have registered this in the strongest possible manner. So I was quite excited when they returned from a foraging expedition on Friday with a new and shiny looking container with which they looked rather pleased with themselves about. And what do you suppose was in it? VITACAT!!!
Oh it was some dressed up, posh and poncy Vitacat in pate but Vitacat all the same and in my book you just can't pull the wool over my gorgeous eyes. I sulked, oh yes I did, and as a result there are now several sachets of IAMs in the cupboard. It seems agreeable and I'll tolerate it for now until my palate dictates otherwise, but they'd seriously better watch their step from now on. Who do they think they are dealing with here?