You should know that if you drop dead, your cat might eat you. We know that, because it has been observed in those instances where the decedent has few friends and no one notices right away that they have perished. The authorities break in and find them with little chunks taken out of them and the cat is just sitting there, not looking guilty.
First thing your cat is going to do is lie down on you until you’re no longer warmer than the room. Then your cat is going to think about it for a while, especially if the food dish isn’t being topped up. The data show that nine out of ten cats prefer your arm meat, although I would point out they might just start there because they’re saving the nose for dessert.
I was never worried about Tater eating me. Mostly because I’d be dead. But also, Tater was a mighty picky eater. Years ago I fell victim to one of those campaigns that insist pets must have highly nutritious food that has to be kept in the refrigerator, and anything short of that is animal abuse. I liked this cat a lot and thought I’d give it a whirl. I put a couple tablespoons, or about ten dollars-worth, of highly nutritious food in a bowl for her and she just sat in front of it staring at me for days, until I got rid of the offending material and put her kibble back.
Well, when she gets hungry enough, she’ll eat the good stuff, I had thought, but then I did some research and discovered some cats are so particular that they actually would rather die rather than eat the wrong thing. And the right thing is not only the flavor kibble they’ve gotten used to but also the shape kibble they’ve gotten used to. Put the same crap in a star shape when she usually eats the disc shape and it’s a no-go. Tater would, in fact, eat her kibble as long as it was the original shape, but the crumbs that got crunched off and are no longer the right size? Wouldn’t touch them.
I might taste like kibble. But no part of me is kibble-shaped. Bag of kibble-shaped, maybe.
Dog owners might become post-mortem victims of consumption, too. It is not unheard of to come into a house and find most of the deceased owner along with a dog farting in the corner with a guilty look on his face. It happens.
People don’t like to think that about their dogs—dog owners are so emotional!—and perhaps for that reason, it is surmised that what has actually occurred is the dog is properly upset at the sudden demise of his master, and commences nipping at him to try to wake him up. And nips a bit harder when nothing happens, and a bit harder yet, until suddenly he’s all Hey now, what have we here? and then it’s all over. I am not sure why this scenario is more comforting. Of course your dog is going to eat you. Your dog will eat your socks. Your dog will eat your raincoat.
Dog owners? Given a chance, your dog is going to eat you, and all you can count on is your dog will feel bad about it. But that’s something, I guess.
Here I feel it is important to introduce some material that is not original to me. But I still laugh myself snotty whenever I think of it. You’re welcome.
Scene: The Donner Party. Characters: Mrs. Johnson and the expedition doctor.
Doctor: “Mrs. Johnson? I have some bad news for you. Your husband is…gone.”
Mrs. Johnson: [gasp] “All gone?”
Well, turnabout is fair play.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BrCvZmSnKA
(Ear worm warning)
I hadn’t thought JUST how relevant this piece was.
I got such a belly laugh out of this, especially the “Hey now, what’s this?” dog reaction, and the Donner joke is gold! Snort!!
Wish I could remember which comedian to credit with that.
I enjoyed the Donner party joke. True fact; one of my former bosses was a Donner party descendant. I wonder from time to time whether all that human protein produced that gene that made him a normally proportioned giant. If you saw him without a size reference, you’d assume he was normal sized instead of seven feet tall!
I knew about cats and dogs munching on human remains. The Body Farm in Virginia, which studies human decomposition by leaving bodies out for insects and scavengers to work over has noted that feral cats turn up to lunch on the bodies. It’s been reported that they prefer the arm flesh of older women.
That’s because it’s already sliding off our arms. Don’t take nothin’ to snap a little snack off it.
Oh no! The Donner Party joke!!! SNORT!
I remember reading about Weston A. Price, a dentist who became an explorer, in one of Michael Pollen’s many books. (I’ve read them all, as I agree with him about the American diet. But I can’t remember which book.) He explored many native tribes in places that had no contact with our “civilization.” He not only took notes on what they ate, and their health and longevity, but ate what they ate while he was there.
There was a tribe in South America that ate it’s dead. It was considered an act of honor to the dead, plus — let’s face it — PROTEIN. FWIW… humans taste like pork.
Pulled human sandwiches, anyone?
And cannibalism was common in New Guinea and might still be taking place.
There’s evidence that cannibalism took place in the American Southwest during a period of crop failures.
Face it, most human groups have engaged in cannibalism at some point.
“Long pig,” it’s called. I not only vaguely remember something about that tribe, and vaguely remember possibly maybe having blogged about it.
“The authorities break in and find them with little chunks taken out of them and the cat is just sitting there, not looking guilty.”
You left out the part where the authorities will eventually step in the piles of hornked-up little chunks of owner. I can’t guarantee the piles will actually be stepped in, but I can guarantee they’ll be there!
And if the family dog held back at first, he’ll clean that up toot sweet.
And then there’s:
City dweller: Hey farmer, your pig only has three legs!
Farmer: Can’t eat a good pig all at once.
Flashed on a scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, there.
I had a cat who was just that persnickety about what he ate. If it wasn’t His Kibble, well, it wasn’t food. This because an issue when he got old and his kidneys started failing. Nothing I could figure out would induce him to eat the wet food his vet said he should eat to increase his fluid consumption. A couple pieces of kibble on top, to tempt him into trying it were ever so delicately removed, and the wet food was left untouched.
I’ve since heard vets recommending starting feeding wet food periodically when animals are young, so they know it’s edible.
(I knew someone who once badly burned a spot on his arm, and instinctively put the burned spot to his mouth. He said the taste was more like chicken than pork.)
Well, your brain does a little trick there, reinterpreting the grill marks.
Yup, the difference between cats and dogs is the guilt, or in the cat’s case, the lack of it. I am sure my cats would have felt entitled to snack on my remains. I remember one of my cats would come try to chew on my throat if I was screeching too loudly about something (I have a high voice). And I was still alive!
Vivid. [shudder]
I really enjoyed the youtube post that Susan entered. Very funny. Especially at the end when a very sad dog hears about what people eat.
I always think he looks horrified by what he’s hearing. I love The Kiffness and if anyone strange approaches me I’m going to break into song: “Hey! lugga-lugga-lugga, please go away lugga-lugga-lugga. Hey Hey!!”
We’ll see who runs away first.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2oRlBmwKzy4
Carolyn, THANK YOU for introducing me to The Kiffness! He’s now on my bookmark list! I especially enjoyed the parodies he made during the lockdown, like Father and Son, Lockdown Rhapsody, and Sound of Sirens. He is the Weird Al Yankovich of the current generation.
Another thank you for The Kiffness here! We just watched a whole string of his videos, and will watch more later.