• A strange paradox about a message I read on a tub of Dreamies, and the design of the tub itself.

At first, cats may not seem like an attack vector for getting 𝚒𝚗𝟸 𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚣. That’s not the language we’d typically use to describe such a threat. We might usually say that cats, if left to their own devices, cause problems on purpose: knocking things over; chewing cables; ripping up paper. If your documents aren’t safe from a bored cat, that’s a security threat, and you need a patch. Meeting them halfway, and maintaining enrichment opportunities, is the patch.

Treats reduce boredom in cats to zero. A great way to enrich a cat’s day to day rituals is to hide some here and there around the house – in my experience, getting Bo to use his hunting instincts like this reduces incidents of boredom. Otherwise, cats retain that energy like a pent-up coil. It’s like when you’ve got lots to do, but also lots on your mind. Zoomies ensue; soft plastics accrue more bite marks than teenage acne; cat must kill.

Securing treats from a cat is a pretty simple task, I know. Just put them in a container, and hide them in a drawer they can’t paw their way into, right? As anyone who has a cat knows, they seem to be able to distinguish the crinkle or rattle of a container with treats in it from other crinkly and rattley things. If they could talk, they’d probably give you an exact number.

I thought the allure of a packaged container was that your cat can’t see what’s in it. A recent purchase – the tub within the featured image – has made me question everything. “Claw-resistant tub?” You’ll have to take their word for it. Humans generally like their containers for cat treats to be claw-resistant. I mean, if it wasn’t, it’d be a poorly engineered tub. Cats are small-time breakers of property – surely this is enough to prevent their destructive entry?

Turn the container, however, and what I was met with next was the height of sauciness – regardless if you’re a human or a cat:

Orange cats might share the one braincell (#orangecatbehaviour), but even they’re not so thick. Guarded by plastic or not, those are treats.

You just told me this tub is claw-resistant. Yet here’s a cartoon cat who’s clawed up the display, showing us what’s inside. It’s metaphorically broken your own rule. What am I even supposed to believe in anymore?

There’s some philosophical insight I would like to explore here, but I’m not sure what it is (the penny’ll drop later). We, the humans, are being sent one message, seemingly in plain English: “Claw-resistant tub.” Meanwhile, the manufacturers are sending us an opposing message through pure spectacle: How we think our cats desire treats, they are projecting back onto us in the packaging.

With our cats as a vector, the owner of Dreamies (of course, Mars, one of a few monopolies who Own All The Things to do with food) is telling us how we should be desiring “treats that cats crave.” We are also told that cats will do anything for Dreamies – up to and including structural property damage:

We’ve come full circle. Cat commits property damage; human subdues cats with treats, playtime, etc.; ???; cat commits property damage. Is that what this ad is trying to tell me? I don’t know. I just couldn’t help but think literally about the packaging of this tub and write a post about it. It might just become relevant in future…