By Wendy Brown

Last updated 09:24, Saturday, 09 August 2008

I HATE TV adverts – especially those ubiquitous leather sofas (aren’t we all tired of them?), Oreo biscuits (horrible child, nice dog), and Davina McCall with her hair colourant and annoying mother.

Most of all though, I hate the Felix advert. My cats definitely do not swing off the cupboard doors in an effort to reach their food. Nor do they smile at me angelically once it is handed down. Do the makers of cat food actually test their products on cats? If so, I would like to offer mine for testing. The adverts then would, I think, be far less smug.

The strange thing is that I spent many years feeding the family, often producing alternative offerings for those who didn’t like the meal of the day. At one stage I had one offspring who didn’t like anything with cheese, eggs or fish and one who didn’t like red meat, most vegetables and anything green. It wasn’t easy, but, after years of sitting in tears over plates of cold cabbage at school (“you WILL eat this!”) I had some sympathy. And we got by. Happily in later years same offspring are now very adventurous with food.

Years later and living alone (well, apart from the felines) it ought to be easy. Unfortunately the cats have taken over where the offspring left off.

Most of my shopping, I’ve realised, centres around cats. Tins of the most expensive variety, pouches, treats to sprinkle on top, tuna, pilchards, chicken, sardines, rabbit and assorted biscuits. You name it, I struggle home with it. And are they grateful? Not in the slightest.

They stand there – all five of them – shoulder to defiant shoulder – with a look which says “What on earth is THIS?” The maxim “if they’re hungry they’ll eat it” doesn’t work when you are outnumbered. When all you want to do is to sit down to your solitary Weetabix and can’t because, in protest at the unsuitable breakfast, the cats have all the chairs.

Maybe I could convert them to vegetarianism and give them the cold cabbage treatment?