If only I shopped for my own cat food.....

If I chose my own cat food, I would settle for tinned mouse. In jelly, I think rather than gravy. Goujons of mouse in aspic would be delicious. Maybe occasional tinned sparrow breasts or even smoked sparrows with a jus d'oiseux. Or perhaps dried extruded rat biscuits in a box with a few savoury dried rabbit biscuits included. Then as treats, raw mouse tails or even dried mouse tails. The tails could be individually wrapped and sold like After Eights, for the end of a meal. After I have eaten a mouse (head first to make sure the fur is smoothed down not ruckered up), I rather like crunching up the tail at the end. It's a bit like pork crackling for us cats, only healthier because there's no salt. Sometimes I don't crunch. I just suck it in like spaghetti.
As it is, we cats make our menu choices at one remove. We know what we like, but we have to train our humans to purchase the correct items. I have to rely on Celia's choice of food. The woman is dreadfully lacking in imagination. I started her off buying Felix cat food, because that was what Cats Protection fed me. I mean if they'd fed bananas, I'd have liked bananas. I like Felix, don't get me wrong. Indeed I prefer it to other brands thanks to my kittenhood experiences. But I rather hoped I could persuade the woman to go a bit more upmarket with her choices. She keeps trying to give me the cheaper Felix, or the roasted pieces Felix which I don't much care for, rather than the more expensive pouches which come with a slogan "It's as good as it looks". It is. She comes back laden with human goodies from Waitrose and what is in the bag for me? Felix. Again. Bog standard pouches of Felix. She doesn't eat the same thing week after week. Why does she expect me to?
I am trying to train her. I purr loudly and look hungry when she gives me the more expensive stuff. And I walk to the bowl and turn away looking sad when it's the stuff I don't like. Admittedly I eat it in the end but reluctantly without purring and with the pathetic look of an abused cat. She does notice. Sometimes I see the guilty look flit across her face. She knows she has failed me. She knows she has been saving money at my expense. She knows that she is being selfish. She is still holding out on me...