How-I-Fed-My-Cats-Raw

WiskyWhen I was about 14 years of age, on a nice summer daya very young kitty wandered into the backyard of oursuburban northern New Jersey home. She was a cute, spunky tortiewho was obviously lost and searching for food and shelter. I hadn’ttouched a cat in many years, following a horrific allergy response toa friend’s cat I had pet when I was a kid. I had rubbed my eyes afterpetting that cat and they swelled up and closed. My mother gaveme antihistamines, which sent me into the deepest sleep for severalhours. When I awoke, the swelling was gone and my fear of evertouching a cat again was set.So, then along came the tortie. My neighborhood friends, sister, brother and I played with her. I was especially smitten. Dadhad forbidden pets (or so I thought), and I felt it was risky to even mention the kitty to him. As dusk descended, the kitty wanderedinto the woods and would likely have been gone forever. “Can’t let that happen!,” I thought. So, I asked my friend to pickher up and bring her into our garage. I got her a bowl of milk (I did not know any better), laid down some old bed sheets in acorner and showed Dad the scene. He liked her and had no problem with keeping her overnight. That was the beginning of a16-year family affair.The cat was really something special. We named her “Whisky,” a combination of “Whiskers” and “Frisky,” both of whichdescribed her well. To this day, I still have never seen a more beautiful animal. She was shy, often aloof, yet extremely sensitiveand full of regal grace and tender sweetness. Words cannot really describe how magical her air was.Whisky was a wonderful companion and playmate. During my eight-year colitis illness, mysadness, angst and turmoil were relieved by her presence and devoted friendship. She lovedto nap on my bed and follow my buddies and me on long walks through the neighborhoodwoods and around the adjacent school grounds. When we slept in a tree fort we had built inthe woods, she slept on its roof.Her vitality was high over her first few years, but then she began to gain some excess weightand become lethargic and moody at times. Why?We fed her cooked, commercial cat food. Canned meats, boxed kibble, moist, packaged meatniblets with preservatives, water and nothing more. Mice, birds and other prey were not part of her diet—there was not anabundance of them where we lived.I did not find out about Natural Hygiene and rawfood commonsense until Whisky was about 14 years of age. She was in fairshape at that point, and I knew she would do better on a raw diet, as I was (I rapidly healed up from eight debilitating years ofulcerative colitis). However, changing Whisky’s diet seemed untenable at my parents’ home. I at least succeeded in getting myfamily to cut the worst packaged cat food from her diet.After I rejuvenated, I moved out of my family’s home to upper New York state to take a new engineering job. I thought hardabout taking Whisky with me, but recognized that she belonged at her longtime home, and, sadly, I had to settle for seeing heronly a few times a year thereafter.A year later, as my health was blooming, I took off to start a new chapter in my life in California. I needed warmer climes, abun-3

dant organic food and a more health-minded social atmosphere,and I found just that in the East Bay Area.The last time I saw Whisky before I left, she was sad and had lostmuch of her vitality. I knew she missed me, my sister and brother,and she was run down on her toxic diet. My heart sank.A year or so later my dad informed me that Whisky had cancer inher mouth, it was inoperable, and she was wasting away. She diedat home. I felt helplessly sad. She deserved better—far better.Whisky’s spirit really touched me, and she taught me a lot—more than most people I’d ever known. Looking forward, it wasclear that I’d never feed a pet cooked food again. I am thankful for the gifts Whisky gave, and have followed through on doingbetter with my future kitty companions.ccccccIn 1991 I took a new engineering job in Santa Rosa, California and renteda cozy little redwood house in Sebastopol, which is an hour and ahalf north of San Francisco. On Christmas day I decided to go to an animalshelter and give a kitty a new life.There I saw and heard a scruffy and young, scrawny, rambunctious graytabby boy who wanted out of his cage. “Rowrrr! Rowrrrr!! Rowrrrr!!!” he exclaimedwith his eyes fixed on mine and a paw reaching out for salvation.“Do you want to come home with me ?” I dumbly asked. “ROWRRRRR!!!” hereplied. The decision had been made.GreystokeThe animal shelter clerk sent us home with a free bag of kitty kibble and couponsfor more. I tossed them in the garbage and welcomed my new buddyto our home. “Greystoke” was his new name, and fun hijinks was his game.Greystoke was three months old, very skinny and stinky. His eyes were muddybrown and not at all clear. He slept a lot and loved his new home.His introduction to raw ground turkey, chopped fish and veggies and avocado was successful from the get go—no transitionnecessary! He was a rawfood chow cat to the core, starving for real, good food.Over the next three months, Greystoke filled out, his muddy eyes becameluminous green, his scent became sweet, and he became the livest wire inthe neighborhood. He loved me as his “daddy” and spent much of his dayshunting gophers in the loamy backyard.Life was good for Greystoke, and he became a strong and a most handsomecat before long. I’d never seen a cat who was awake so much; most catssleep 14 to 20 hours a day because their cooked diets are so toxic and devitalized.But not Greystoke—he was supercharged with raw energy most4

of the day.A most memorable health issue occurred when hewas around one year old. A large abscess bubbleformed on one of his hind thighs. After about threedays of resting inside the house and enduring somepain, it was ripe and burst. He licked it clean and wasfine. The large patch of raw, pink flesh completelyhealed in four short weeks. No oozing pus, no blackcrusty scab—just clean regeneration of skin and fur.Greystoke certainly was a self-healing powerhouse!I fed him three meals a day consisting of raw groundor sliced chicken, turkey, chopped clams, smelt,salmon and avocado, often with finely-chopped greens mixed in. Occasionally, I fed him raw egg, beaten up in a bowl. Onetime I gave him a dollop of raw almond butter. After he struggled to remove the sticky stuff from the roof of his mouth forfive minutes, I didn’t try that again. Instead, I occasionally fed him ground nuts and seeds. Once he was very eager to try thehoneydew melon I was enjoying. To my amazement, he chowed down on a good portion of it. To my dismay, I found a pile ofgreen melon vomit on the carpet the next morning. I might have offered him some banana later on, but he rejected it andnever went for sweet fruit again.He did get his fill of gophers, voles and mice fresh from the backyard. All-in-all, at age one-and-one-half, he was one healthy,vivacious and handsome dude. We had tons of fun playing. Since he had been neutered, his sex drive was halted, but his rambunctiousnesswas high—sometimes too high.A neighbor got a new cat, a male bronze-tinted tabby, who became a regularvisitor. Greystoke and he were about the same size, age and disposition, and theybecame pals. The friendship soon turned from peaceful to an irritable wrestlingrivalry. Sparks occasionally flew, with some biting. It seemed harmless, as I neversaw any flesh wounds, but, nonetheless, I didn’t like it and I broke up every wrestlingmatch I saw.He was about 20 months old when I noticed a one-inch bump protruding fromthe side of his left ribcage. It bothered him a little when I touched it. It grew toabout two inches in length over the next two days. I surmised that it was probablyanother abscess, and my self-healing boy wonder would be fine.The next day the bump was suddenly completely gone. I was mystified and assumedthat was the end of that oddity. But it didn’t make sense and it hauntedme.The next day was a Saturday, and I was off to attend the annual Harmony Festival in Santa Rosa. I fed Greystoke in the morningand again when I returned around dinnertime. He seemed tired but nothing seemed too unusual. The next morning I fed himand again and things seemed fine with Greystoke, or so I thought. I headed off to the festival again.5

When I returned late in the afternoon, he was not there to greet meas usual. I searched high and low and finally found him in a shallowdepression under the deck. He was almost motionless. I pulled himout and was horrified—there was not much life in him.My heart pounded as I took him inside and set him on a blanket. Hedidn’t go for water or food. I called the emergency veterinary hospitaland they said bring him in.The veterinarian examined him, said he had a fever and was severelydehydrated and about a day away from death if he did not get fluids.Now I was devastated!Intravenous fluids were given and I agreed to x-rays and an overnightstay for Greystoke. Soon after returning home, the vet called sayingthat Greystoke’s chest cavity was filled with pus. I told the vet aboutthe bump on his ribcage and he said that it was an abscess whichhad burst internally, filling Greystoke’s thoracic cavity with the pus.The next step would be to remove the pus with a hypodermic needle.The cost for that and everything else so far would be around $800. Iconsented and the procedure was done.I visited Greystock the next morning. The vet allowed me to feed him some raw meat. He ate and began to regain a littlestrength. I took him home and he quietly rested, and day by day became more animated.Over the next two weeks, Greystoke almost became his old energetic self. He seemed more peaceful. His wrestling buddy waspeaceful, and all seemed well.Then I noticed his vitality dipping bit by bit. He became more and more lethargic and it was sad to see. Then one afternoon Ifound him resting underneath a fir tree in the backyard, seemingly too enervated to frolic around like his old self. I knew thescore. The internal toxicosis was gaining ground again.I took him back to the vet, he was examined and I was told that the pus and fever had returned. My heart sank further. The vetexplained that his best efforts were unable to detect a toxic foreign object in his body, such as a broken tooth from a fight,which might be causing the “infection.” He explained that he could attempt exploratory surgery to look for a foreign intruder,but that would mean even more suffering for Greystoke. He said that most people would opt for euthanasia instead of thattorture.I am not sure how I made this decision, but euthanizing my best friend was the most painful one in my life. I said good-byeand cried buckets all the way home, and wept the next three days.The obvious biggest lesson there was no matter how well one feeds one’s pet and how healthy and vivacious he or she is, longevityis not a sure thing—life is fragile and every moment is precious. To honor the joy that Greystoke’s life gave me, I vowedto do much more to keep my future pets out of harm’s way. Fighting with other pets wouldn’t be tolerated any more. I stillmiss that boy and am saddened by his early departure.6

If you visited the home I lived in, dubbed “thered barn,” in Sebastopol, California in theearly 2000s, you surely met my roommate Earl. Hisofficial name was Earl Grey—he was a gray tabby. Ididn’t like the name, but I loved Earl.Simba, A.K.A. “Earl”Here’s how our connection began. The red barnsat on a nice rural property which had a wonderfulapple orchard on one half, and three residences onthe other half. Situated next to the red barn was atrailer, and at the front end of the property was thelandlord’s home. It was a lively little commune ofsorts.The fellow who lived in the trailer with his girlfriendalso had a dog and two cats, one being Earl. Earl was neglected and somewhat abused. That resulted in obesity and despondency.He was around ten years of age and weighed about 22 pounds.When I first met him, Earl was a grey, yeasty-smelling blob of misery with an unkempt matted coat of loose fur. He sat on awoodshed on the side of the barn and brooded all day. When his keeper came home and fed his pets, Earl ate kibble that hehad to compete for. I had no idea that this big fellow was interested in any human contact. For the first few weeks, I prettymuch ignored him, assuming he was disinterested in human contact.One day I tried to warm him up with some stroking, but he seemed pained by my effort. This could not go on any longer, Ithought, so I asked his keeper if I could feed him some raw meat. He said, “Yes—that’s what I used to feed him. In fact, you canhave Earl.” What?! I told him that I could never take someone else’s pet, to which he replied, “It’s OK—he’s not my favorite pet,and he’s yours if you’d like to take him in.” I ruminated for a few moments then said, “OK, I’ll take care of him and feed him well.”I immediately fed Earl some raw meat on the barn’s deck, led him inside, and knowing he had a new home, Early never turnedback.Earl loved the caressing, brushing, combing, raw food and all of the tons of affectionhe got. His new lease on life revealed him to be a smart, sweet, loyal, proud and lovinglittle boy...er, feline.The roly-poly “Earl of the Red Barn” was a rejuvenating wonder. His coat became lustrous,his scent sweet, his eyes keen, and very slowly over the first few months on his100% raw diet, the excess pounds came off. Around six months after his adoption, hesuddenly lost all the remaining excess fat and became a fit and svelte 14-pound, handsomedude. Jumping onto four-foot high tables and grappling up onto tall fence topsand climbing trees was no problem for Earl. We had oodles of fun. One day he joined mein the mayhem of a rowdy backyard stickball game with the landlord’s kids and broughton huge smiles all around! It was wonderful to see how he enjoyed the company of themany visitors and co-workers who were in our lives over the next five years.7

When Dr. Tim Trader and Dr. Douglas Graham gavea talk to an audience of 30 or so people in thebarn’s living room, Earl arrived last and peacefullytook a snooze on the futon. When my assistantsfor my Living Nutrition business were workingaway in the barn’s office, Earl often hung out andnapped on the office desk, keeping us calm andamused by his gregariousness and repose. Whenthe Rawstock crew who had camped out in theliving room awoke at 6:00 a.m. to head out to thefestival at Bill Macdonald’s apple farm, Earl wouldshout “ROWWW...ROWWW...ROWWW,” demandingto be fed by whoever was within earshot. One daythat command landed on Laurie Masters, who waslaughing her head off as she echoed Earl’s pleas. Earl demanded raw food when he was hungry and respect at all times. Hiswishes were granted and he was a fully vested family member and office co-manager.Earl was so healthy and beautiful over the first five years of our partnership that I thought he’d live way beyond the age of 20.I did get one sign, however, that his previous diet and age were catching up with him.I was feeding Earl a varied raw diet of avocado, chopped veggiesand chicken parts, ground turkey, fish and egg. Since he was notmuch of a hunter, and thinking he needed some bone as cats wouldobtain in nature, I occasionally added some chopped chicken legbones and backs to his diet. A local grocery store sold those parts.Using a hatchet, I chopped up the bones, blood marrow and all, ona wooden plank, and Earl munched on the pieces. I wondered if hisintestines would be OK with that, but he seemed to have no problems.Cats, I had learned, have acidic gastric secretions which are farstronger than those of humans, and dissolving bone is somethinga cat can normally easily do. However, knowing that sharp piecesmust be avoided, I chopped and mashed the bone to small chunkswith no pointy shards. I assumed that Earl would have no problemcrunching on those chunks. But, I later learned a painful lesson.One day, Earl sustained an odd injury. The first or second vertebra somehow became displaced, resulting on his tail taking a45-degree turn there. Perhaps he got his tail caught in a fence when jumping down, or he had fallen off a tree limb onto hisrump. I took him to the vet and was told it was not painful and was best left alone—manipulation to straighten it would onlydamage the ligaments. So, this crooked tail remained.The vet had given Earl a brief examination and reported to me that virtually all of Earl’s teeth were missing. I was shocked andsaddened, feeling responsible for causing that condition with the thick chicken back feedings. So I fed no more bone to Earl.Earl managed just fine thereafter on his raw diet of finely ground, sliced and mashed foods.8

A year after the third and final Rawstock Festival I hostedin Sebastopol (2005), circumstances in my life tooka turn and I moved to a smaller home across town. Thenew home was a temporary stepping stone to a muchbetter situation. It was a cottage surrounded by a vineyardand it was not very much fun or stimulating forEarl; there were no children and he had less freedombecause of the landlord’s dogs and feisty cat.At age 16, Earl was vivacious and beautiful—clean andclear-eyed with the softest coat of fur. I tired of thename “Earl” and thought he needed a more dignifiedone. If you ever Googled “Earl Grey” and laid your eyesupon a picture of his namesake as I did, you might understandwhy I wanted to disassociate my buddy from the man known for the tea. I renamed him Simba.In the second autumn of our stay at the vineyard cottage, Simba slowed down. I could see how bored he was and that weneeded to find better terrain. In early December, his appetite waned. By the end of the month, he was eating about one-halfof his usual daily quantities of food, and he had lost a few pounds. Then his appetite became very weak and he became sluggish.One morning in early January, he was crying with pain and fear—his legs were not working. Scared, he managed to draghimself under my bed to hide. I pulled him out and had friend Dr. Johanna Zee examine him. Johanna had run a veterinaryclinic in Vieques, Puerto Rico and had a lot of experience with cats. She surmised that he had blood clots in his legs.Simba spent most of the next two days in a papasan chair in the living room and ate and drank very little. He gazed at me withno emotion, but he was clearly hurting over the loss of his vitality and physical faculties.On the second day, a Sunday, Johanna, her son and I went to San Francisco to see Cirque du Soleil. When I returned, Simbawas right where he was in the morning, on the papasan. He did nottry to move. He refused to drink water, and Johanna advised me thathe didn’t have much time left. His organs were simply giving out. Mymind reeled.A few hours later, seizures, blindness and mild delirium began. Hisbody was there but Simba’s spirit was gone. I awoke almost everyhour that night to watch him. He managed to crawl onto the carpet,but he was almost lifeless in his wasted body. At 7:00 a.m. his heartseized up and his body expired. He was very thin, but as beautifulas ever. It was all very mystifying and disheartening to me. I buriedhim in Johanna’s backyard and carved a redwood headstone. I knewhe didn’t want to leave us. His spirit never has. What a sweet boy.cccccc9

CarmellaImoved to a nicer home in Sebastopol that summer with plentyof privacy and woods for exploring. After six months of grievingI felt ready to adopt again.I went to the Sonoma County Humane Society’s well-endowed animalshelter in Santa Rosa one day and checked out the dozen glass-walledrooms filled with cats of all ages, sizes and breeds. None seemed interestedin me and I felt no resonance with any of them. Almost ready togive up, I tried looking in the last room one more time. One little crittercaught my eye.I had spotted a cute tortie nestled behind some other cats. Was she thegenetic heir of Whisky? As I closed in on her, she sensed my attentionand began purring. Her motor became more vibrant as I stroked andheld her. That little bundle of love was coming home with me.The three-month old tortie with caramel-colored eyes had been giventhe name “Lisa.” I preferred another name, so I signed the adoption papers,renaming her “Carmella.” While she resembles Whisky from afar,her markings and personality are quite different.Carmella was a baby. She loved her new home, the rawfood offerings,cuddles and lots of head scratches. She went from cooked to raw withno reservations. She grew quickly, and her eyes became hazel. She delightedin chasing the squirrels who occupied the huge white pine treein the backyard, and in hunting and eating some of the gophers, pygmy mice and wood rats she caught. Since the house hada pet door, she brought some of her live catches into the bathtub at all hours of the night. I’ll skip the details of that!Carmella was always happy and playful. She stayed out of trouble, keeping a distance from the coyote and raccoon interloperswho came for midnight raids on her food bowl which was set on the deck.Tiring of the long, cold, rainy winter seasons in northernCalifornia, in early 2010 I decided to fulfill my fruitarian dreamof living in a tropical land and set my sights on Maui. My onlyreservation about my plan was that the rabies shot, flight andquarantine might kill Carmella, but I could not leave her behind.I was torn over my decision to get her a shot three months beforeour departure, but, happily, there were no apparent effects.I lined up a home to rent in Haiku, Maui, beginning in October,booked a flight and obtained a roomy pet carrier with a waterfeed bottle. Carmella was to be placed in the special cargohold for animals. I was assured that is was a safe, temperature-10

controlled space. I was nervous, however, havingheard horror stories about some animals dying inplane cargo holds.As our departure date drew nearer, Carmella wastested for rabies antibodies. She passed, meaningshe needed neither further inoculations nor quarantining.I was greatly relieved. One more hurdleto go.hold. Carmella was just plain excited. Surprise!We left Sebastopol and set out for San FranciscoInternational Airport with very different perspectives.I was excited about the new chapter in paradisethat was about to unfold, yet edgy about howCarmella would fare in the pet carrier and cargoCarmella was enthralled with the airport scenery she viewed through the carriercage door and did not utter a sound or show any apprehension when the portertook her away to the pet hold. She clearly loved the adventure! Amazing, consideringthat most cats can become so freaked out by changes and traveling tounfamiliar noisy places with lots of people milling about. Solitary confinementin a cage in the bowels of a roaring jet for five hours? No problemo por SenoritaCarmella!Carmella probably enjoyed a good nap. When I picked her up at the animal quarantinestation at the airport in Honolulu on Oahu, she was fine and dandy—theadventure was still cool with her. I presented her papers to the animal controlofficer and she was released. She had not relieved herself in the pet carrier andseemed very comfortable. I offered some dried salmon treats and she ate sparingly. We had a two-hour layover and Carmellawas calm and cool in the carrier while we hung out on a grassy lawn.We boarded our connecting flight to Maui, landed, rented a car and headed to ournew home. It was a tropical foliage heaven for Carmella. What a gift! There were plentyof new critters to chase—geckos, chameleons, rats and mongoose—and trees toclimb.Life on Maui has been great for Carmella, and she keeps rolling with the changes verywell. Annette moved in and we got married, we moved twice, and Carmella adaptedperfectly to the new living situations. She will turn five years of age next month andis healthy and fit at nine pounds.There has been very little drama; she is too fast for dogs and usually too savvy to getinto trouble, it seems. Two incidents are worth retelling, however.11

First incident: Soon after we movedto Maui, I learned that there was aneighborhood bully. A neighbor saidthat a disturbed cat had killed histwo newly-adopted kittens a coupleof months earlier. Two or three timeswhen Carmella was out at night Iheard screaming skirmishes. I neversaw the instigator, but guessed itwas that stealthy Maui Mangler cat.Early one evening, I heard somescreaming and then Carmella suddenlybolted into the living roomthrough the pet door. Shaken, bloodpooled on the floor from her bleedingneck. She was apparently bittenby the Maui Mangler.The blood flow stopped quickly and naturally. Carmella got a big dose of consolation from me, then she walked upstairs. I followedher a while later, and after a search, found her inside the bathroom cabinet, behind the closed door under the vanitysink. She remained there, fasting and healing for over 24 hours. Then she came downstairs, ate a breakfast, and all was normalagain.Curiously, after that conflict, there were no further signs of the bad cat again.Second incident: I like to vary my pets’ diets, to avoid the ruts of routines. I noticed bags of frozen pork chunks in a grocerystore freezer case and bought one, figuring that Carmella would enjoy the flavor. She did, and I fed her that occasionally overthe next few months. Then I noticed a change in her physical appearance: her coat, especially her belly and rump, had becomea bit mangy with sparse fur, and she had lost about two pounds.Concerned, I realized that raw pork is notorious for parasites, soI stopped feeding her that for good. Still, the mange persisted. IGoogled information about natural pet remedies for parasites.Ground raw pumpkin seeds was a popular remedy that severalpeople endorsed, so I tried that. After adding some to her foodseveral times, her coat became healthy again and she regained thelost weight. I have continued to add some pumpkin seed meal toher meals once in a while. She also occasionally likes to munch onwhole pumpkin seeds.Today, as usual, Carmella is thriving.12

ccccccI’ve learned a lot from being the care giver of my fourkitty companions, and I am still learning with Carmellaand wondering about her diet as it relates to her health andlongevity. Does her diet contain too much fat, too much fish,is the food pure enough, are there too few organs, too littleor too much of some particular nutrients? I’ll keep learning,with observation and intuition as my guides.May your love affair with kitty be long and extra special, andmay he or she live the best of all nine lives! If you have anyinsights and stories to share, your correspondence would bepurrfectly welcomed! I’d like to write more on this subject infuture issues.Now here are the basics of “Raw Kitty Care 101.”DDietary TransitionI don’t have any experience with dietary transition. The threecats I’ve adopted took to a 100% raw food diet right away.I have heard from other cat guardians who have said thattheir cats would not eat any raw food in lieu of their cookedfoods. I suggested blending in some raw ground meat, avocadoand veggie pulp with their meals, and keeping bowlsof plain raw egg and avocado near their regular food dishes,but I haven’t yet received any positive feedback on that. Ialso recommend raw cat kibble and treats. If you have anysuccess stories about your finicky cat, please share them.DWhat To FeedMeats. The goal, of course, is to feed our pets as similarlyas is practical to how they would eat as predators in nature.Cats are carnivores. Their digestive organs are the same asthose of humans. However, their digestive organs and digestivesecretions are designed to function best on a relativelyfatty, high-protein diet of mainly raw animal meats as well asgrass and other vegetables.So you shouldchop or slice meatsas finely as possibleto ease the digestiveburden. Large chunksof food tend to lead tofrequent barfing.Meat choices:• Fowl (chicken and turkey, sliced or ground)• Hoofed mammals (cow, steer, lamb, deer, buffalo). I don’tfeed any of these to Carmella—I don’t believe they arehealthful; cats do not prey upon them.• Fish (tilapia, salmon, white fish, smelt, anchovies, clams,scallops, etc., sliced, filleted, ground)• Organs (liver, heart, gizzard, etc.) I am not convinced that Ineed to add them to Carmella’s diet, considering her huntinghabits; I believe she is getting taurine and all the otheressential nutrients she needs. Liver seems too toxic to feedto any cat.• Bone and marrow, finely chopped or ground. I rarely feedthese to Carmella because of her hunting habit.Vegetables. Cats have pointy incisor teeth which are suitedsolely to tearing flesh. They do not possess flat molars whichwe have for mastication, that is grinding and crushing plantfibers, to release their nutrients. As such, cats are not suitedto digesting fibrous vegetables well. Nonetheless, the fiberand microflora in raw vegetables will be very useful for theirbowel health. Cats will eat grass, and when they eat rodentsand birds they ingest their bowel contents, which wouldinclude semi- or fully-digested vegetables and seeds andgrains. To increase their nutrient intake, we can help cats byfinely chopping, blending and juicing fibrous vegetables and13

fresh-cut grass to make their juices more available—that’swhere most of the nutrients are. Add the juicy pulp from yourjuicer to ground and sliced animal meats and avocado. If youare short on veggies, snip some green grass from your lawnor a flower pot if you are an apartment dweller—standardgrass is as good as wheatgrass. The veggie nutrients, fiberand microflora will do wonders for any toxic pet.Avocado. The oily fruit is a great co-anchor for any cat’s (ordog’s) diet. Mash the avocado up to make it easy for cat tolick and swallow. Some “authorities” advise that avocado istoxic to pets. I have no personal or word-of-mouth experiencewhich lends any credibility to that notion. My threeraw-fed cats have loved avocado, provided that it’s mashedup. Dogs love avocado as well. It imparts lustrous sheen toany coat of fur and helps resolve dry skin problems.Nuts and Seeds. Whole, chopped and ground raw nuts andseeds are suitable, provided that they are not old and rancid.Soft coconut flesh is also good. Nut and seed butters are verysticky, so mix them with water or a juicy blend of veggie pulpor avoid them altogether if your cat struggles to get themdown.Treats. Cats love raw, dried fowl and fish treats (cubes orwhole small fish) and sea vegetable leaves. If your cat has apersistent flea problem, there are yeast-based B-vitamin tabletsfor that—cats love the flavor and enjoy them as treats.Catnip, fresh or dried, is an occasional must.Water. Distilled, reverse osmosis, filtered, spring and rain waterare suitable. Keep clean water in a glass, stainless steel orceramic (not aluminum) bowl at all times.D What Not To Feed• Cooked and preserved foods of any kind are toxic, becausethey corrupt animal’s senses and they destroy health. Avoidcooked and dried kibble. Raw dried kibble is generally OK inmoderation; however, it should not be offered regularly.• Do not feed your cat a diet with more than 25% raw cow/steer beef, lamb or other hoofed mammal. Again, in nature,cats would not likely catch and eat them, but the biochemicalprofiles of these foods are not very different from thenatural primary food sources of cats. The key here is offeringthese meats in moderation.• Raw pork has too high of a risk of containing parasites to besafe in any amount.• Do not feed your cat a diet with more than 25% fish. In nature,cats would not likely catch and eat fish. The biochemicalprofile of fish is different, yet not necessarily harmful inmoderation, than cats’ natural primary animal food sources(rodents and birds).• Avoid factory-farm raised, anti-biotic inoculated, GMO andprocessed food.• Avoid dairy (cheese and cooked and raw milk).• Avoid cooked eggs. Raw eggs are OK, but not on an everydaybasis.• Starchy and sugary (carbohydrate) foods are not part of acat’s natural diet (except for the small amounts of predigestedgrains they might obtain from the bowel contents of birdsand rodents). If your cat does enjoy and is able to digest andkeep balanced and healthy with occasional portions of rawsquash, carrot pulp, corn and sweet fruit, I would like to hearabout it! Grains (other than corn and sprouted grains, whichare not really necessary) should be avoided.• Bitter and sharp herbs, including garlic and onions, are toxicand can result in undesirable behavioral changes.• Chlorinated and fluoridated tap water, as well as fetid waterof any kind, must be avoided.14

DProcuring Animal FoodsIf you are like me, you have no desire to kill and chop upfresh animals. Source fresh and frozen animal meats fromyour local grocery store or butcher. Some stores offer packagesof freshly-ground raw turkey, chicken and fish as welltheir parts. Most stores sell frozen, unprocessed fowl andfish parts. Seek organic meats. If they are not available andyou want to feed kitty the best food, there are online sourcefor organic frozen pet foods which can be mailed to you. Ifyou have access to fresh chicken eggs from local farms andfarmer’s markets, you are fortunate; otherwise, purchase organiceggs from stores.Kitty treats and raw kibble can be purchased at some animalfeed stores and from various online mail order companies.I purchase Wildside Salmon Treats for Carmella from TheBarfer Shoppe (www.barfershoppe.com)—she loves them!DStoring & Serving Animal FoodsMost vegans, like I, abhor having frozen meat in their refrigeratorand freezer. This issue is solved by buying a separatefreezer which can be kept in your garage or utility room.Second-hand freezers are often available via Craig’s list andclassified ads. A refrigerator is not really necessary, exceptfor eggs which, in my opinion, are innocuous in my kitchenrefrigerator.I manage animal meat storage as such:• Bags of frozen chicken parts (breast, thighs, legs) can easilygo in kitty’s freezer. For convenience, the parts can be removedfrom their package and placed in individual zip-lockbags, and placed in the freezer.• Packages of freshly-ground chicken and turkey are soldin many grocery stores. I typically buy three packages at atime. At home, I spoon about three ounces of the meat intozip-lock bags, then place them in the freezer. I pat the massdown flat—this quickens the thawing time. The frozen packagesrequire one to two hours to thaw out. Placing them in abowl or sink of hot water reduces thawing time.• I typically chop or mince celery, lettuce, kale and/or grassor use veggie pulp from my juicer and mix that into the meatin the serving bowl; the mixture is about 50% veggies and50% meat.DWhen To FeedCats usually want breakfast early. I feed Carmella groundchicken or turkey with chopped veggies two out of everythree mornings, with sliced fish on the other day. That fuelsand energizes her for a morning of exploring and hunting inthe neighboring jungle habitat.In mid-morning or around noon, I either place a portion ofmashed avocado in her bowl, or I beat up an egg in the bowl.For dinner, around 6:00 PM it’s more meat and veggies. I onlyfeed her no more than one fish meal per day, and I don’t feedher fish every day.If I know or suspect that Carmella has found her own freshkillmeal, I only leave some avocado in her bowl for dinner.About every third day, instead of a meat for dinner, I offeronly avocado and chopped veggies.DHow Much To FeedHow much food per serving is intuitive, based on experienceand observation. It’s better to serve small portions than tooverfeed. If the portions are too small, the cat will likely giveyou an “is that all there is?” glare. In that case, increase theportion size a little bit. If kitty needs to lose weight, keepthe portions small. If he or she expresses dissatisfaction, givesome loving cuddles and play time several times per day,and offer a treat once a day between meals.Observe your cat’s waistline. His waist should not bulge outbeyond the hips and the belly should not sag. Also observethe cat’s odor, coat and eyes to ascertain if he or she is cleanor toxic—if toxic, you may be overfeeding, or, if the cat is still15

in the beginning stage of dietary transition, more time maybe needed for his or her internal purification.If you can catch your cat in the act of defecating, look forsmooth, quick relief and for straining, which may indicateoverfeeding. If kitty is in transition and in process of losingexcess weight, signs of toxemia and bowel movement difficultyare to be expected—they will improve as the weeks goby.Keep kitty satisfied, energized and lean with enough foodand plenty of loving attention between meals so that he orshe has more to look forward to each day than just food.DFood CombiningInclude raw vegetable with almost every raw meat, avocado,nut and seed serving. Chop up your vegetables and mix ormash them together with the fatty foods. Also mix in the pulpfrom your veggie juicing operations, or use freshly-cut grass.Go with a roughly 50 percent proportion of meat, perhapshigher in the beginning until kitty gets used to the veggiemixture. Avoid mixing meat with egg and mixing any highcarbohydratefoods with meat, nuts and seeds.DFasting is OKIf your cat is not hungry and wants to fast, that’s perfectlyfine. Allow kitty to take care of himself or herself in the waythat comes natural. If kitty’s appetite and behavior seem veryunusual for more than a day, consider an examination with aholistic veterinarian. Do not force feed. Cats are self-healingmarvels, and they know when food is not helpful. Let naturedo the healing, and let your friend know you are there forhim or her.cccc16

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