It's the Great Turkey Charlie Brown

Thanksgiving is upon us and already this morning I am learning a lesson in gratitude from my cat Cecil. As is my morning routine, I opened a can of utility-grade meat to feed the cats. This process is always at the very least unappetizing for me, and at the worst, it is downright disgustung. However, a split second after the can popped open I could hear Cecil's collar jingling as he jumped down from the bed, ran through the hall, around the corner, down the stairs and into the kitchen. I hadn't even gotten the food into a bowl and he already has been rubbing up aside my leg, meowing with rejoice that he will get to devour another can of food I cannot bear to smell yet alone eat. There is noting special about this food for Cecil. It is the same food he has been eating for over a year. He eats it three times a day - shares it actually, with Wyatt, our cat of more refined taste. Yet Cecil expresses his gratitude for this simple pleasure by rubbing against my leg every morning. I think he also tries to express thanks once again after finishing by climbing on my lap an breathing into my face. "Here dad, see how good this was?" There is nothing like the smell of canned ocean whitefish after it has passed the cat's palate, let me tell you.

I have lost my sense of gratitude for each opportunity to eat. I more often find myself sighing at the contents of the cupboard than gleefully expressing thanks for the abundance of food I have to eat. Sometimes I'll even move boxes and jars of less than desireable food around the cupboard and frige, not once thinking of the fact that I have more food in my possesion that I can see at one time. Well, Cecil has taught me to give thanks at each meal. His is the life of simple gratitude and happiness. He bears no grudge if the food is not to his preferences. He comes running with the expectancy of filling his belly with whatever ends up in the bowl, and he likes it (now if only I could say so much for Wyatt).

This Thanksgiving, and hopefully here on out, I shall also be grateful for each opportunity to eat. Maybe I'll even resemble the cat a bit and come running when dinner is called, though I will likely forgo the leg rubbing part for obvious reasons. We are truly lucky to have such an ample supply of inexpensive and variegated food. After all , we live in a country where the poor are more obese than the rich (imagine fathoming that 100 years ago!). Ooh, gotta run! I hear popcorn a popping downstairs!