Stark, our production director, was drinking beer over at my pad the other day. He’s had a fair bit, because he told me that was the best meal he ever had at my place.
My eyes swept the table top and worked out that he’s had 6 bottles of beer, one coaster, and two cans of Shasha’s emergency cat food stash.
He makes it a point never to eat anything at my place because he just doesn’t trust the things I have brewing in jars with weird looking stoppers, little pails below the sink, or moldy cartons in the fridge.
In actual fact, they are natto, kefir, kombucha, kvass, and all the good fermented stuff but in his eyes, they are just battalions of bacteria waiting to wreak havoc on his system and take him down with food poisoning and diarrhea and possibly COVID 19.
“It’s crazy you know, your irrational fear for microbes,” I told him as I extracted natto from rice straw. He told me he rather eat the beer bottle caps than the bacteria infested food I was serving.
“This is not for you, it’s for Shasha,” I said as Shasha, having detected food from upstairs, had appeared on the table magically, lapping up the fermented beans.
“She can’t be enjoying this sick stuff,” said Adrian.
“It could be much worse for her,” I said. “She could be eating some cat’s poo.”
I’ve been reading about a new technology, Fecal Microbiota Transplant (FMT) Capsules, that is meant to restore your pet’s gut health and relieve it of troublesome symptoms.
Millions of dogs and cats suffer from chronic digestive disorders like intestinal inflammation, inflammatory bowel disease, etc., that, if left untreated, could result in thousands of vet bills and shit stains all over the house. The idea is this. Since such problems arise from having a lack of healthful gut bacteria, if healthful bacteria is introduced into the system, the pet will recover rapidly. Therefore, this company began harvesting stools (containing good bacteria) from healthy, screened pet donors and made them into capsules to be fed to your pet, or as Kris our dog whisperer would put it, “poop pills at USD 95 per 30 capsules”.
Here’s my point: This specialty health pet food craze has gone too far. If I understand this correctly, what they are doing is to gather the stools of some healthy cats, then sell them to us at 95 bucks per bottle which we would feed to our cat connoisseurs. I told Kris it must be a clever hoax designed to ridicule us pet owners. Tragically, it is not. There really are poop pills. I know because I bought some from a specialty online store and paid $158 bucks including delivery for the poop pills to fly from America.
I was expecting the contents of the pills to look exotic, considering that they are fit for human consumption as well, and carry, according to one online review, flavours of aromatic fermented coffee. But the contents looked just like regular dried up faeces. For a while I felt stupid, thinking I was ripped off until I tasted some.
You know how sometimes, when you’re really skeptical about something, but then you finally try it, you discover that it’s really good, way better than you expected and you couldn’t wait to recommend your friends? This was not the case with the poop pills. The pills, in my opinion, tasted like the poop of some cat, which was exactly what it is.
But money spent is money spent, and the least I could do was to make the best of it so I fed the poop pill to Shasha. She spat it out in an instant with the disgusted expression again that seemed to suggest, “What do you take me for? A dog?”
Now, when you eat something that even someone who spends half the day licking its own butt says no to, you really got to reflect about life.
But what I reflected about was how I could recreate all these powerful bacterial colonies in Shasha’s gut without resorting to eating poo (her, not me).