Given my recent kidnapping in a Meow Master truck, I thought this blog deserved a post about my one, sole weakness: Meow Master.

I know, I know. What’s a classy cat queen like me doing, eating food for the proles?

Let me break it down for you.

Since most of you reading this are of the human persuasion, I’ll draw up an analogy. Cat food for me is what chocolate is for most women. And while I’d like to tell you that nothing drives me crazier than the pungent fragrance of a freshly caught grouper, there’s something totally magical about the rattle of Meow Master when you give the bag a shake, when you can hear all the bits of goodness rolling around on top of each other, perfectly round, perfectly moist, perfectly ready for consumption… oh it makes my mouth water just to think about it!

I suspect it’s like the difference between the fair trade organic extra fine Belgian dark chocolate that you can buy at your overpriced neighbourhood gourmet health food store (Hello, Big Carrot) and a bag of M&Ms or Maltesers.

You want to say you prefer the “good stuff,” but really, the heart wants what the heart wants, and the bagged, gas station chocolate is way easier to come by and way easier to stuff into your face when that’s all you want to do. And that’s how I feel about Meow Master. I want it, I take it, I love it.

So here’s to Meow Master, even though it was nearly the death of me.

P.S. The only reason I don’t like the Big Carrot today is that my recent abduction by Evil Trojan Borscht makes me wary of root vegetables. I do like their selection of fish oils.

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• Posted in: Leopard Woman's Blog
• Post tags: cat food, From the Desk of Mrs. L. Woman-Faultline, Leopard Woman, master