Jack and the 7 Deadly Sins

I am trying to kill some time before I feed Jack his pre-bed snack. If I feed him too early, he wakes me up at 5 am ready to eat again. If I feed him too late, he'll leave me a really smelly present just as I'm about to fall asleep and I'll have to go remove it in order to breathe deeply again. So I have to get the timing down just right. He's pretty sure it's time now, and is singing a bluesy tune to let me know it. I'm pretty sure this is what caterwauling sounds like. 

Since I can't focus on much besides him, he gets to be the topic of another post. I realized earlier this evening that my cat goes through the 7 Deadly Sins like humans go through the stages of grief. And it all happens because he's hungry. Let's lay 'em out, one by one:

Lust~ Jack is extremely lustful of food. Not just his. If I have food, he lusts after it, too. His eyes get big. His pupils dilate. He wants that food like nobody's business. It starts to take over until getting that food is the only thing he can think about. He mews. He cries. He flat out begs for it. It's very un-gentlemanly. 

Envy~ If I dare to fix my own dinner before feeding him, he becomes my shadow. His little nose goes into Extreme Sniff mode. His eyes narrow, focusing on my plate. Or arm. Whichever he can get to quicker. He licks his lips, never taking his focus from my dinner. He's practically green from the envy. He gives me a pitiful stare, begging me to have mercy on him and share. 

Gluttony~ I give in because the noise becomes unbearable. I decide to put him out of his agony and give him the thing he wants most: Cat Chow. Blue bag. Sometimes the green one. I can't even get the bag to his bowl because his head is already there in anticipation of the food. So half of it goes on his head. He probably thinks it rains food in this apartment, which will make it hard to move him out of it. He gobbles up every last morsel from the bowl. 

Greed~ Now he needs more. He's had a taste, but it's not enough. Not even close. Until he has a bathtub full of food that he can roll around in, it will never be enough. He looks at me. His eyes say, "More dammit!" I am trying to keep him from eating himself into a coma, so I walk away. He follows, stalking me. Now the crying starts. As though it's been two weeks since his last meal rather than two minutes. He will even slash at my leg if it looks like I'm going to leave without filling that bowl again. 

Wrath~ Oh boy. I have done it now. I have refused to give into his cries. I have cleaned up the gash on my leg. And I am happily ignoring him, engrossed in a television show or book. That is not a part of the plan as far as he's concerned. So he decides to break out the big guns. He gets mad. He scratches the couch. He jumps on me, getting in the way of whatever I'm trying to do. He gets louder. His look is not pitiable now. Instead it is accusatory. "How can you refuse to feed me? What kind of person are you? I could die, you know!!!" He makes it impossible for me to do anything but give in. In order to save face, I always make a big scene about how it's my decision and it has nothing to do with his behavior. But he doesn't care. He's getting his way. 

Pride~ He chows down once again. This time leaving behind some for later. He's proved his point. He wasn't even really hungry this last time. He just wanted to bend me to his will. Now that it has worked, he puffs up and struts around a little. All that pride builds up inside him until he just can't hold it in anymore. So he makes a little pile of pride and refuses to adequately cover it up. Not only have I fed him twice, as demanded; now I have to go and clean up his mess. 

Sloth~ This has been pretty much the big part of his day, so now it's time to plop over and relax. Nevermind that he eats his food lying down. Or that he sleeps all day. This is his time to bask in the glow of a job well done. He sprawls out on his back, legs flung open, belly up. The picture of laziness. It is unlikely he'll move from this position for awhile. 

My cat is clearly a big fat sinner. But I could have written this exact same post with me as the subject instead of Jack. In fact, if he could type, he'd probably have his own take on the many ways I exhibit the sins on a daily basis. I guess for now I'll just be happy we're content to live with each other's sins. And remind him how lucky he is that he's cute.