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There's no accounting for taste
Apr. 26th, 2010 08:43 amMilly had roast chicken for tea last night, and as a consequence is now refusing to even consider the revolting muck we've served up for breakfast.
Max, on the other hand, wouldn't drag himself from the depths of the beanbag for a chicken dinner last night, even when the chicken meat was waved under his nose. He is now polishing off both his and Milly's helpings of the delicious breakfast we've served up.
Conclusion: tastes differ. Milly goes mad for chicken, while Max can take it or leave it. On the other hand, open up a tin of tuna and you've suddenly got 9 lbs of ravenous black feline attempting to climb your leg to get at it...
Max, on the other hand, wouldn't drag himself from the depths of the beanbag for a chicken dinner last night, even when the chicken meat was waved under his nose. He is now polishing off both his and Milly's helpings of the delicious breakfast we've served up.
Conclusion: tastes differ. Milly goes mad for chicken, while Max can take it or leave it. On the other hand, open up a tin of tuna and you've suddenly got 9 lbs of ravenous black feline attempting to climb your leg to get at it...
