We need to talk about the cat food

Dear Leo,

Hopefully it goes without saying that I adore you. You are the only dog I have ever allowed to sleep in my bed, even though you often prefer the futon or the floor. I love you even though you are basically the reason I can’t have nice things, because you will chew them, stomp on them, or knock them over. But something has come up recently that I simply can’t allow to go on any longer.

We need to talk about the cat food.

I’m aware that this might have escaped your notice, but the reason I put the cat food bowl on the counter and not the floor is because that food is for the cats, not you.

I know. This is a shock. I’m blindsiding you with the information that there is food in the world that is not intended for your consumption, and I’m sorry. I only do it because you’ve left me no other choice.

For a while, making sure I put your food out before the cat food kept you from wandering over and jumping up on the counter to get to the cats’ bowl, sometimes giving one of them a gentle nip on the bum to get them out of the way. (Despite this, the cats seem to adore you, too, which I’m a little mystified about, to be perfectly honest. But I guess you are a good nap partner.)

However, for the last couple of weeks, if I leave the house while you are still eating your food, I come home to find the cats’ bowl overturned on the floor. I know cats have a reputation for knocking things over, but given that it’s a relatively heavy bowl and it often ends up on the opposite side of the room, paired with the fact that the bowl never ends up on the floor when I take you with me after I feed them, I’m gonna go out on a limb and accuse you of this one.

Here’s the thing Leo. The fact that the cats need to eat, too is only one of the problems.

The bigger issue is the farts.

The cat food does not agree with you, my friend. And when we go to bed on the nights that you’ve feasted on Meow Mix in spite of having already wolfed down a full portion of your own food, you make the room unbearable for hours. It’s downright toxic, Leo. The gas that you emit is fucking weapons-grade. The military could use you at Guantanamo. You would be far more effective than water boarding at getting prisoners to talk.

So I’m coming to you now because I’m at a loss on how to address this. If there was a higher place to put the cat food, I would use it, because you don’t seem to be able to help yourself, but I can think of no other place to put it. What suggestions do you have to resolve the problem?

Your cooperation on this matter is appreciated.

Love,

Mom

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