Early in Boomer’s life he seemed to realize two very important ‘facts’: that he was really a human, not a cat; and that he loved eating more than anything else in the world.
Because of these two unalterable ideas, upon reaching adulthood Boomer appeared to make a conscious decision that he would not lower himself to the level of the other two felines in his household by consenting to eat only cat food (extremely boring!).
Unfortunately, his human ‘pets’ did not agree with his decision and continued to offer him only cat food (and ‘lite’ at that, because of their perceived idea that he had a weight problem). They continued to try his patience by keeping all the human food locked in a large white box they referred to as the ‘fridge’, and totally ignored all his reasonable requests for a higher standard of food.
Extreme measures were called for, so Boomer studied the problem carefully …
Several nights later, at an early hour in the morning, Dad was heard mumbling something about ‘darned kid, leaving the fridge open again’ … followed by a groan and then some colorful language, which included ‘wretched cat!’. Dad had, after closing the fridge, walked in the darkness on something cold, wet and slimy on the living room carpet. It wasn’t as bad as Dad had initially thought, though – it turned out to be a package of well-chewed Black Forest ham. Although Boomer had made the mistake of leaving the evidence behind (he didn’t have time to eat it all before it was discovered), he had made sure that he himself was not in evidence, and seemed quite content to let Son take the blame for leaving the fridge open, making it easy for Boomer to get into it and help himself to a midnight snack.
After this type of thing happened a couple of times, however, Dad and Mom began to get suspicious – especially when the fridge happened to be open when neither Son nor Daughter was home. By this time, Boomer had expanded his horizons, sampling leftover steak, a two pound (900 gram) block of cheese, and some grapes (he didn’t like those). He was much better at hiding the evidence, too – he now took his treats to the far corner of the basement, where his meal was less likely to be disturbed by inconsiderate humans.
It wasn’t until Mom and Dad heard a four pound (1.8 kilogram) frozen roast hit the floor in the kitchen late one evening when neither kid was home that they finally clued in for sure – Boomer was the culprit! His serious daily study of the fridge, which they had assumed to be harmless, had paid off and he had figured out how to open it in order to help himself to the goodies it contained.
War was declared … a sort of one-sided war, as Boomer had still not been caught anywhere in the vicinity when the food ‘happened’ to fall out on the floor.
First of all, Dad thought that putting a chair in front of the fridge door would solve the problem. Boomer, however, being quite strong, merely skidded the chair out of the way (love those lino floors). Mom and Dad did catch a glimpse of this one day, when Boomer skidded the chair aside in the kitchen with his feline friend Pinky asleep on it at the time!
On to the next step. Dad thought that, if he smeared margarine laced with cayenne pepper around the door, when Boomer got it on his paws and licked it off the taste would cure him of going near the fridge forever. Wrong … Boomer loved the taste, and cleaned off the sides and bottom of the door as far up as he could reach!
Okay – third and more severe step … Mom and Dad made a ‘tack belt’ by forcing thumbtacks through tape and taping it along the side and bottom of the fridge, so that Boomer would poke himself when he tried to pull the door open. Boomer obliged by carefully ripping tiny sections of the tape off (complete with tacks still attached) and scattering them around the kitchen floor, where Dad got to experience them when he walked barefoot through the kitchen on one of his midnight prowls (he really wasn’t very happy with Boomer by this point in time).
Mom now realized just how serious the problem was, and went on a shopping expedition to see what remedy the retail sector could provide. She first tried attaching little sticky hooks on the side and front of the fridge and running elastic between them, rationalizing that, because they were out of Boomer’s reach, he wouldn’t be able to pull the door open. This worked well for a while, until the kids forgot to put the elastic back on after going into the fridge (and Boomer checked for this each time he walked through the kitchen). Then, after pulling on the door enough times each night, the little hooks could be persuaded to slide on the porcelain of the fridge and eventually would slide right off, allowing the door to be opened.
Mom headed back to the store and finally found a Boomer-proof lock, designed to keep children from being able to open oven doors. As the device locked automatically when the fridge door closed, Boomer could no longer depend on the kids forgetting to ‘cat-proof’ the fridge. Was he destined to enjoy only cat-type food again?
But wait … what about all those other doors in the kitchen? Turns out there are all sorts of other human-type foods behind them, all neatly arranged on shelves, at just the right height for a slightly pudgy but very clever tabby cat (now nicknamed HippoBootamus by the kids) who really does like raisins, and nuts, and cereal, and …

Author: Laurie de Mille
Country: Canada
True story: Yes
Rating: 6 paws down
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