Cat and Mouse
Our cat Chester’s favorite topic is food. He won’t stop meowing about it and that’s the reason we banish him to the basement at night so we can sleep. Of course, he only agrees to go there because we entice him with extra kibble.
Additionally, our pet enjoys chicken and beef cat food but surprisingly he’s not keen on fish, though he does lap up tuna juice. All of these treats come courtesy of our neighborhood grocery stores, the modern form of hunting for food.
From the day wild cats were brought into ancient dwellings by grateful people for the felines’ appetite for rodents, cats have had a thing for mice. Modern folks are making it easier for their furry friends to catch a mouse by simply opening a can.
Muridae Pet, a Carmel, California company produces several flavors of canned cat food with each having one common key ingredient; mouse.
Tom Radcliffe sold his three pet stores to earn enough money to throw in the kitty to start his business. He saw an opportunity to make more money by catering to cats’ primal desire for mouse meat. And so, a brand was born, “Mouser.”
There are four Mouser products; Field Hunter (chicken & mouse), Forest Hunter (turkey & mouse), Pond Hunter (duck & mouse) and Brush Hunter (rabbit & mouse). Fortunately, there is no Soylent Green & mouse.
To sustain the production line, Radcliffe doesn’t employ cats to track down the mice, instead he buys them from specialty producers who breed the rodents for people who like to feed them to their pet snakes or crazy uncles. Unlike lab mice, Radcliffe told the Bay Area News Group that the Mouser mice cost about 10 times more than chicken, turkey, duck or rabbit. That translates to a 5.5-ounce can priced from $2 to $2.50 in stores, equivalent to premium priced cat food.
Pass the Grey Poupon please.
Back to Chester, a cat who has no hunting skills whatsoever. I asked him if he wanted to try some Mouser since he was never going to catch one of those little rodents himself.
“Not interested,” Chester said as if he had just waived off the sommelier for bringing him an inferior bottle of wine.
“Why not,” I countered.
“I’m not eating a disease-infested rodent that leaves droppings all over the place,” my clean freak of a cat responded. “Keep it simple; kibble, canned chicken or beef and tuna juice. That’s all I need.”
“Aren’t you curious what it would taste like,” I slyly asked.
“Just because I’m a cat doesn’t make me want to be curious about everything,” Chester said, getting his dander up. “Cats like to hunt and chew on mice, I get it. I watch TV and see Tom chasing Jerry or Sylvester trying to eat Tweety Bird. It’s not my thing.”
“Not your thing,” I asked, genuinely surprised at Chester’s apathy towards wanting a taste of mouse.
“All I want to do is look out the window at the birds and squirrels and sleep,” my slug of a cat whined.
“You don’t have to chase a mouse,” I said exasperated. “All that happens is I open a can and you eat. How much effort is there for you in that scenario?”
“I would have to walk to my food bowl,” Chester said in an almost inaudible voice.
“You’re an embarrassment to cats,” I said, not believing how this conversation was going.
“Ok, I’ll eat some if you try it first,” Chester said with more energy.
“Sorry pal, I don’t do cat food,” I shot back.
“I just realized I haven’t checked on my Bitcoin investment,” Chester said. “I should go now. Great speaking to you!”
“I thought you were too tired to walk,” I snorted. “Wait, you own Bitcoin?”
“You’re wasting my time peasant and time is money and money is in Bitcoin and cryptocurrency is the future and the future is now,” Chester said as he suddenly found the energy to run downstairs to work the internet and check on his investments. So, I followed him to the basement and my computer where Warren Buffet was clicking away and chuckling.
Last I saw, Bitcoin was pushing $40K.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I said, trying to work a con. I’ll try the mouse food first and then you take a bite, and in return I get a Bitcoin.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m booked into something else right now and it doesn’t involve you,” my altisonant cat shot back at me.
“Then I’m done feeding you kibble,” I said like a four-year-old.
“No problem, I’ll order out,” my affluent cat said.
I went upstairs to compose a letter to the Muridae Pet company.
“Dear Mr. Radcliffe, I have a great idea for you. Have you considered combining mouse with kibble? You can call it Lazy Hunter. I bet it would make lots of money or even Bitcoin. Sincerely, A defeated cat owner. PS Have you tasted your product? Just asking for a friend.”