Except that then Anthony told me that cats won't usually eat out of people's hands.
So I sent Anthony an article about foods that I should be eating to lower my cholesterol. He decided that this would be the perfect time to try and get me to eat fish, since it is listed as a healthy food.
So he comes home with some groceries...starts up the rice cooker, starts steaming some fishy smelling stuff in the rice cooker. (it steams and cooks rice, all-in-one!) Which starts my first complaint of why I don't like fish. Because it smells. (and it took 2 days for the smell to go away) So he says "no, you will like it" and I promise him that I won't. So he continues cooking, and I am reading my book and looking up once in a while from the book to see what he is up to.
He announces that dinner is ready. I put the book down and walk slowly over to our breakfast bar. I slide into my seat and take a deep breath. Which was my first mistake. "It smells fishy", I said. "It's supposed to smell like fish, it *is* fish." says Anthony. "It's pink, it isn't cooked." "Baby, I promise it's cooked."
Now, I have to give him some credit. He made it look really nice. He cooked up some brown rice, topped it with the fish (salmon maybe?) and some crushed tomatoes with a garnish...he really went out of his way to make it look nice.
But it still smelled like fish.
I put some rice and some tomato and a small bite of the fish on a fork. I put the fork down before I even got it close to my face. I took deep breaths again, this time through my mouth and not my nose. I put my head in my hands, I psyched myself up for it. I said that it would taste good. It was good for me, maybe I can start eating a diet of fish and rice. I picked up the fork.
I stopped breathing through my nose.
I put the fork in my mouth. I closed my lips around the fork and tasted...
At first, all I could taste was rice and tomato.
Then I tasted the fish. And it didn't taste like fried haddock. Or grilled swordfish, or Mahi Mahi from Trisha and Jeff's wedding. It tasted like fish.
And I didn't eat it.
And I ordered a cheese pizza from Papa Ginos.
The pizza was great...not at all fishy.
So I took a piece of the fish to Princess, the cat who lives here. She wouldn't eat it either, which I got a big kick out of. Until Anthony said, put it down, she won't eat it out of your hands. And I had to be dissapointed when he was right.