The Awkward Moment with the Prawn

Mouth and Tail have a well-rehearsed eating regime.

They have dry food for breakfast, because I can leave it out when I go to work. (This has never been an issue, though. Mouth and Tail inhale it within about 30 seconds of me putting it down.)

Then they have a wet pouch when I get home at night.

I am a bit suspicious of their wet food, because it all looks the same. It can claim to be cow or sheep or bird or fish, but it's always the same sludgy brown stuff.

I got excited once because I thought the salmon-flavoured sludge looked a bit pinker than the beef, but it turned out to be Mouth's tongue getting in the way.

Another thing I can't understand is why they put cows and sheep in there. I doubt any cat has ever caught and eaten a cow.

But they adore their sludge.

Anyway, for Mouth's birthday I decided to buy him some prawns.

These were not just any prawns. They were ultra-expensive, Taste the Difference, you-have-never-eaten-anything-so-good prawns.

A real treat, I thought. His little tabby tastebuds won't know what's hit them.

I placed an experimental prawn in his bowl.

Mouth waddled over to inspect it.

He leaned in closer to give it a tentative sniff.

Mouth was not sure about this prawn. As he looked at it, it seemed to be looking shrimpily back at him.

He glanced at me.
"Go on!" I said encouragingly. "It will be delicious. You'll see."

Dutifully, Mouth extended an intrepid paw.

There was a split second when nothing happened. The tension was so palpable, you could have sliced it with a litter scoop.

Then the next thing I knew, Mouth gave an involuntary shudder of revulsion. His paw panicked in its haste to detach itself from this slimy pink monster and the prawn went sailing over our heads.

It was a crustacean aerodynamic display the likes of which my kitchen had never seen before.

Eventually, the prawn came to rest on the floor in the corner of the room.

Mouth had hidden under a nearby chair and was now growling in a very un-brave and whimpery way, as if in acceptance of certain death.

Sighing, I picked up the prawn and threw it away.

Normality was restored.

Mouth wound himself round my legs with new respect. I was his saviour. I had conquered the pink demon and obliterated its very corpse.

I fetched some rabbit-flavoured sludge from the cupboard and dished it out for him.

Mouth tucked in delightedly.

As he ate, his little body reverberated with happy purrs.

Salvation AND a nice rabbity supper! It had been the best birthday EVER.