Cat anarchy (Catarchy?).

I'm sorry to post two cat-related things in one morning (God knows it will make my parents question my sanity, but who doesn't love a cat in a drawer?), but I feel it's warranted. I have to issue a warning to fellow cat owners. Feline Greenies, the cat-approved version of the popular dog treat has turned our cats into scary slavering beasts (don't be fooled by the happy cartoon kitties on the website).

Our cats are, for the most part, pretty sedate and have never become terribly excited by treats. Appomattox wails like the dickens at dinner time, Obediah will lap up spilled pumpkin puree, and Gus has a bizarre obsession with ice cubes. But, due to high levels of kitty crack baked into each gross-smelling Greenie, which they sampled for the first time last night, the three of them have gone completely insane.

This morning, they were circling me and yowling as I tried to leave for work. Thinking I'd be a nice cat mommy who's about to abandon her furry charges for a whole weekend, I pulled out the shiny green bag to dispense a little edible love-bribery. The yowling and circling reached a dangerous fever pitch as I struggled to open the EZ-zip bag before they clawed their way up my legs. I distributed two each to each food bowl, but I should have known better. Appomattox is a champion eater and scarfed her own and one of Obediah's. I gave Obediah two more and turned my attention away to Gus, who was eyeing my Greenie-dusted fingers with uncharacteristic bloodlust. Appomattox moved in on Obie's treats, but he would not lose the sweet sweet Greenie goodness without a fight. No indeed. He bit her in the face, and growled. She got away with one, but he was resolute. I gave him another so he wouldn't turn on me. He squared his shoulders, scarfed it down, growling low in his throat the whole while. I sealed up the bag, threw it in the cupboard and beat a hasty retreat.

For those of you who don't know Obie, please cast your eye on Exhibit A:


As Claire has noted, he is (bless him) not smart. His "meow" is more like a "meep." He has a deep affection for the bathmat and he has no front claws. His greatest weapon is perhaps his breath (the impetus for purchasing the Greenies in the first place). But there has been a change in him. I fear for Claire's safety this weekend while I'm away in South Carolina.

The makers of Greenies have established a pretty good racket. Make irresistable animal treats that cure death breath (at least that's working), and then charge a friggin' arm and a leg for them.

Have cats? Why don't you go request a free pack? They'll never be the same again.