Ah, Thanksgiving — the time of year when we gather with family, stuff ourselves full of turkey, and give thanks for the things that make life worth living. And by “things,” I mean food. Glorious, mouth-watering food. But, let’s be real: one member of the family is just there for the leftovers. What about Bob? No, not cousin Bob, who always has something mildly inappropriate to say. We’re talking about the four-legged family member. The one who knows exactly when to pounce for maximum snacking opportunities. Yes, your cat. And no, they don’t care about your pumpkin pie – they care about the gravy.
So, how do we, as responsible cat owners, navigate the holiday season without unleashing chaos (or worse, feline food coma)? It’s all about “snark” here at Snarky Cat Boutique, and here’s a guide to surviving Thanksgiving with your cat.
Not for You!”
Let’s start with the basics. Cats, despite their obvious intelligence, have a profound inability to understand boundaries. So when you tell them, “No, Fluffy, you cannot have turkey,” don’t be surprised when they stare at you with the same look of disdain they reserve for the vacuum cleaner. The truth is, your cat is on a mission — a mission to get turkey, and they won’t stop until they do.
You may try to tell them about the dangers of poultry bones, or how gravy is a bit too rich for their delicate system, but your cat? They don’t care. They’ll give you a bored look and then try to claw their way onto the table when you’re not looking. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when. And let’s face it, you’ll probably cave. Just try not to feed them the stuffing. That’s the stuff that really gets them into trouble.
The Stare: “I Can See You Have a Plate”
You know the one. You sit down to your first plate of food, you’ve carefully arranged everything — mashed potatoes on the left, turkey in the middle, and a little gravy for garnish. And suddenly, from across the room, you feel the weight of the stare. It’s not a casual glance. Oh no. This is the “I’m watching you, human” stare. It’s intense, unwavering, and slightly judgmental, like your cat’s been keeping track of every meal you’ve ever eaten.
You look down, and bam, there’s your cat — on the armrest of the couch, perched just above the floor, eyes locked with yours in a silent challenge. They don’t even have to say it, you know what they want: a bite. Oh, and they’re not being subtle about it either. The paw tap. The slow, deliberate approach. They know you’re weak. The worst part? If you give them a little piece of turkey, they’ll give you the “Is that all?” look, because they’re not impressed with your generosity.
The Nap Attack
Once the turkey’s been devoured, and the gravy boat’s been licked clean (by you, not the cat, we hope), the only thing left to do is… nap. That’s right. Your cat’s favorite part of Thanksgiving isn’t the food, it’s the aftermath. Once the human festivities slow down, it’s time for them to take over your favorite chair. Or your lap. Or the spot you just vacated on the couch. The timing of this move is impeccable, as they always seem to wait until you’re at your most stuffed, your body practically screaming, “I need to stretch out and nap!”
In a classic display of feline passive-aggression, your cat will position themselves in the exact spot you wanted to lie in, ensuring that you can’t possibly get comfortable. If you make any attempt to reclaim your territory, they’ll stare at you as if you’re the one who’s out of line. “I was here first,” they’ll silently communicate, while curling up into an unreasonably small ball in the most inconvenient position possible.
Kitty Tantrum: “Where’s Mine?!”
After the human chaos dies down, and everyone is lounging in a tryptophan-induced stupor, your cat will begin their final phase of Thanksgiving: The Leftovers Strike. If there’s any food left within their reach, they’ll sniff it out like a seasoned hunter. You know, the little bits of mashed potatoes stuck to the rim of the bowl or the stray slice of turkey you didn’t quite finish. It’s all fair game. They’ll paw at containers, meow at your feet, and even gently nibble on the edge of your plate, as if they’re trying to communicate, “This is mine now, human.”
Don’t even think about putting leftovers in the fridge if you want them to stay there. The second the door opens, that smug little face will appear from nowhere. Just surrender to the fact that you’ll never have the last of the cranberry sauce. Cats always get the last laugh — and the last bite
Please, “You call this a feast?”
Some cats, bless their hearts, couldn’t care less about Thanksgiving. These are the feline divas who look at your turkey, look at you, and then proceed to lick their own paws in utter disdain. “Is this what passes for a feast? Please,” they seem to say, turning their nose up at the mere idea of your poorly prepared dinner.
They’ve already decided that their own bowl of kibble — or, God forbid, the elusive “wet food” in a can — is far superior. These cats are often the ones who disappear after a few sniffs of the spread, preferring to find a quiet corner where they can enjoy their own, more dignified meal. They’ll leave you wondering why they even bothered coming out of their cozy hiding spot, only to give you the cold shoulder when you offer them a bite of turkey.
Thanksgiving – It’s All About Cats After All
Thanksgiving is a time for gratitude, yes, but let’s not kid ourselves — it’s also a time for cats to remind us of their utter indifference to the things we hold dear. Whether they’re making a beeline for your turkey, claiming your lap, or judging your culinary skills from the shadows, one thing is for sure: Your cat will find a way to make Thanksgiving about them.
So this year, as you gather around the table, be thankful for your furry friend — but keep a close eye on that turkey. And for the love of all that’s good and holy, don’t let them near the gravy!
Ciao,
Disclaimer: The information and opinions herein are based on personal research. My Blog posts are intended for informational purposes only. I am not a Licensed Veterinarian nor am I any sort of medical professional. I am merely a human who takes caring for my pets seriously. My goal is to share my research with other like-minded individuals with the hope that it will help others in some small (or perhaps large) way.
