Well, my little ginger bambinos, meet your new sibling: Ms Spinning Teeth, known by most people as a Vitamix* (the name? My mother’s idea).

Luckily everyone seems to get along fine. D&D are more than happy to eat Ms Teeth’s concoctions, and I’m more than happy to facilitate this bonding exercise. After all, I want everyone in my family to just get along.

* that’s tofurkey on the box, right? Right.

Not that I’m complaining, mind. I’m rather pleased to have such non fussy eaters in my life.

Apparently we starve him so much that he has to resort to gnawing on vegetable carnage not quite captured inside the heavy lid of the rubbish bin.

As usual, I was late emptying my weekly veg box delivery. I found Duncan crawling amongst the contents for a snack. His top choice? Cauliflower. Go figure.

Oh, and I never said I wasn’t a crazy cat lady.

“Okay, fine, let’s see if you like this!” we laugh in a sarcastic tone, as if to say he’ll never possibly find enjoyment in such ingredients.

Generally he proves us wrong. For instance it turns out he really, really likes raw kohl rabi.

Who can resist the cuteness that is a kitten? My mother is currently fostering 5 kittens for a volunteer feral cat charity and it’s a real trip to watch them [ try to ] eat. If the pictures about to follow don’t make you smile then maybe you need to stick your head back in the clouds for awhile.

After viewing their eating habits for nearly two weeks, I came to the conclusion that the two most failed eaters were Gibbs (buff) and Monkus (ginger). See evidence below.

I found Gibbs asleep with a cat food tin on his head one morning. After waking him and seeing his panic, I concluded that he’d wedged himself in well before then and exhausted himself to sleep while trying to get out. The little man was so stuck in that even I had to tug hard to get it off… Fail score: 9 out of 10. Cat would gain the extra point had there actually been food in the tin to begin with.

Monkus is the runt of the litter and spent his first weeks being bottle fed by my mother. He is lucky to be alive. His luck does not, however, extend to his ability to comsume food. At least he provides snacks for the others later on, after they wake up from the inevitable post-meal nap. Fail score: 7 out of 10. It fails pretty bad, but it’s pretty common so the fail has lost its lustre.

Monkus demands dinner, regardless of its form. Fail score: 8 out of 10. Extra points would be awarded if you hooked her lip with your paw, cat.

It was, however, very filling. I did not, as a result, finish my second burrito. That baby had “midnight snack” written all over it, so imagine my upset when I discovered Duncan decided he also liked Wendy’s Recipe. Seeing as he attacked the lone burrito as it waited for its rightful owner in the kitchen, I figured he may as well have another bite this morning before binning it.

While I was unable to catch a picture of him in action, I can assure you he did have a lick or three.

Duncan samples raw horseradish:

It turns out Duncan likes raw fennel, and here’s proof:

Last night I caught him as he took a bite of wood out of the corner of a bookcase. Yes, he ate it. I’m not sure what’s worse from a cat point-of-view: fennel or wood. I would opt for the latter, but it is of course very possible I am missing a magically nutritious supplement in my attempts to avoid wood in my day-to-day food preparation and eating habits.

Wrong.

Duncan, or so it seems, really likes asparagus.

Way to go, nar-cat.

Paul’s mum sends us home with cake from time to time, and if we’re lucky then it’s our absolute favourite lemon kind. Duncan likes it, too.

You wouldn’t think a cat would enjoy this sort of thing, but I often find my two gnawing on random vegetables I’ve dropped on the floor or which are sticking out of the side of the bin. They both get pretty territorial over kale stems in particular!