We are honored to have both our first guest post and our product review in one! Milo 'The Connoisseur' Kitty is an eight year old golden tabby. He lives with his human mother Anya and together they enjoy a pleasantly uninteresting life. He has now been using his Yabozi Royals bowls for around a month and we are interested to see what he thinks!
Hello Human Readers,
I'll admit it. I'm a persnickety eater and a quintessential foodie in the cat world. Everything has to be just right before I decide it's time to eat. It's just the way I am. Some say 'picky eater,' I say 'preferential'. If I want it, I want it and if I don't, well, I simply won't have it. That's why I was perturbed by my new food and water bowls at first. Sure the Yabozi bowls look nice, a shoe, cute, but why change what works? My usual white and blue bowls sufficed. Everyday is Caturday around here and I wasn't about to let two new flashy bowls usurp my authority no matter how nice they looked. When my human Anya easily grabbed the Yabozi bowl by the shoe strap and set it down on the tiled floor in front of me, filled to the brim with my favorite homemade chicken cat food, I smelled catnip and subterfuge.
I simply didn't want a new bowl and I knew just how to get my old one back. Ignoring the mouthwatering smells rising up to my nose, I took several paw steps back and prepared to charge. I would have to have my old bowl back once I tip this one and all its contents right over into oblivion. Three, two, one, I charged! Hurling myself towards the shiny shoe, I head butted it square on. Much to my surprise, the bowl did not budge and I was rocketed backward. What! Not a skid, not a slide, not so much as a tremor, this bowl was tip-proof. I glowered at it while my stomach began to grumble.
"So I can't knock it over. That's fine," I mused. There is more than one way to ditch a cat bowl. I paced. I thought. I paced some more as devious scheme dawned on me. I can't hurt the bowl... but the bowl can hurt me! Once Anya sees her beloved Milo whimpering over a scraped jaw or busted tooth, she'll throw it right into the dumpster where it belongs. Or better yet, give it to the dog next door.
Resolved, I slinked back up to the Yabozi bowl. I didn't see any protruding edges that I could accidentally clip my mouth on but I ran my tongue across the edges to double check... nothing! I rubbed my shoulder against the side waiting for a catch but it just slid smoothly over the plastic. I flicked my tail at the bowl's heel, readying myself to yelp when a stray hair would catch in a plastic crevasse, but no such yelp came. Not only was the bowl skid-proof, it seemed perfectly built to accomodate a cat. "Oh the horror!" I moaned. This noise caught Anya's attention and reminded her I haven't tried my food yet.
"Oh Milo. Try some dinner. It's your favorite," Anya cooed.
No, No... No no no! I began my tirade explaining that I will not submit to this nightmarish monstrosity of a pet bowl before me! (Unfortunately, Anya can't speak cat and only heard several meows) when I was interrupted by a furious growl that was coming from no other place than my belly. I suddenly realized my hunger was beyond compare. As I am, after all, a cat I did what any other self-serving feline would. I rushed towards the bowl and it's meaty dinner waiting for me inside and stuck my head right in. The meat, the sprinkle of 'nip (that's slang for catnip in our community) tasted exactly like every other heavenly time before. I was enjoying my food so much I didn't even notice the new bowl.
Now that several weeks have gone by, I'll admit the new bowls are up to snuff. The food tastes exactly like it always has and I do notice the glances the Yabozi bowls get from my other kitty friends as they peer through my window. There's no better feeling than knowing you are back on the top again. Although in my case, I'd say I've never left.