If at first you don't succeed...fake it.

Or in Zoey's case, give up and lie down. That apparently is the feline creed. Since the boy became mobile, we've put the cats' food up on top of the fridge so that little hands can't make little snacks out of the Cat Chow. This seemed the perfect solution since our feline friends are such naturally adept jumpers. This is clearly feline myth. Have you met my cats? Zoey weighs in at a svelt 9.3 pounds with Max anchoring his half of the furry pair at a robust 13.5 pounds. We grow 'em big here on the Mauk Ranch. So, one would assume that Max would, having to heft his great bulk up onto the counter and up again onto the top of the fridge, be the cat who is struggling to reach the food. Sadly, no. Apparently there is something to the survival-of-the-fittest theory because the offer of food seems to be motivation enough for Max to launch himself the 5 feet needed to reach his meals. Granted he uses the counter and seems to stay up there on the fridge for a large portion of the day, but he can make the jump. Zoey? Not so much, with the jumping. I have been sitting here in the kitchen for about 15 minutes now which has been enough time for Zoey to attempt not 1, not 2 but 4 failed attempts to merely mount the kitchen counter. The top of the fridge is clearly the goal AFTER she catches her breath from scaling the cabinets. She's not even really getting any "air". In 3 of the 4 failed attempts she only managed to get about 3 inches off the ground while also pityingly dragging her front paws down the front of the cabinets. I don't know if it was a ploy or if she truly can't jump that high very well. Either way, I couldn't take it anymore and I put her up on the counter. She then gingerly manuevered the eyes on the stove and leapt gracefully onto the fridge to have a bite to eat. I think I've been had.