June 20th, 2019



To minimize the fattest of the cats from sucking down entire bowls of food, then creating moist chains of regurgitated, undigested gack 15-minutes later, I started buying IAMS hairball again (which actually works remarkably well) and GF researched anti-reverse-suckhole hardware, something I was not aware even existed - a deep, segmented bowl which minimizes how quickly fatty mcfat can transfer entire piles of whole kernels into her temporary staging area; a miracle of engineering how well this funny looking bowl actually works. We haven't had a slimy surprise in weeks.

Guess who can't place their head into a deep, segmented bowl? Conehead, that's who. Marko's cone of silence is a deterrent to many, otherwise cat-like activities, up to, and including, his snout getting anywhere close to cat food when it is at the bottom of a deep, segmented bowl. As a result I've been feeding him from something akin to a trough, which is basically the opposite of a slow-eating device; troughs are designed to deliver as much food as possible to the eater. Which is why we do NOT use the trough to feed our perpetually gacking cat.

So despite everything else surrounding Marko's care and (literal) feeding, we have Minerva The Large trying thwart my every effort for her own (weight) gain. When the trough is empty, Marko nimbly scoops individual kernels of cat food onto the floor to eat, one at a time. Being underweight due to his recent infection, I want him to eat MORE FOOD, so I put it in the trough. But I have to be quick! Because the moment he's done (and I don't always immediately notice), here comes down-with-the-fatness actually RUNNING to the trough in order to maximize her eating speed. I intervene, relocate the leftover food to the deep, segmented bowl, and before I know it...Marko is pulling out individual kernels of cat foot onto the floor once again, and the entire cycle restarts.