Today it was cold, not a nice day to be outside for too long. Time to fire up the wood-burning stove and dream up something to cook slowly in a big pot. From last summer’s leftovers from the high ranch we had food that languished in the back freezer. Like a slab of thick-cut bacon. Premium stuff. In the fridge was a package with six pieces of corn on the cob. It didn’t take too much imagination to decide to make corn chowder, the perfect chilly-day meal.
I cooked the bacon on the wood stove to perfection. Then I sliced the corn from the cobs. Some of it popped off and landed on the floor. When food-like things hit the floor, Boots the cat pays attention. She glommed onto the raw corn bits as if she were starved! A veggie cat? Cats are strict carnivores, I thought, but then I remembered that Boots has also eaten bits of onion, potato, and even broccoli (kidding!). Earlier today I spotted Florence, Boots’ sister, eating fresh shoots of grass outside.
Am I to toss out the “knowledge” I have about cats’ diets? What if I related my personal observation to someone and had no way to back it up, authority-wise? Would I be dismissed as a mere anecdotal observer?
Cats are strict carnivores, period. I must be wrong. Forget what I said. Whew! Safe in the lap of established scientific dogma, I can sleep tonight.
Boots is wrong.