You've got Anne Elisabeth, that's what you've got. Or at least, Anne Elisabeth's poor taste.
Here's the thing: Objects d'Kitty should not be picked out without first consulting the Kitty. How would you like it if someone went around picking out your litter box or your hair brush without bothering to consult your opinion on the subject? And when it comes to food dishes, well . . . I mean, should there even be a question here?
But Anne Elisabeth gets so high-and-mighty, forgetting her place in the universe (which--correct me if I'm wrong--is serving the kitties, right?). She goes out shopping for food dishes without any thought in her head, particularly not what the resident dictator of Roogelwood might consider appropriate. She justs picks out whatever she wants, plops it down, and expects us all to eat and be happy!
All right, we're eating. Doesn't mean we're happy.
Anyway, since that Thing came to stay (against all my best advice), our food dishes have been moved to the Art Studio up on the table where certain Things can't reach it. There, under the light of clear day, I had an opportunity to finally really look at my selection of food dishes.
Welllll . . . they weren't too bad. Not on the whole. I mean, one has a pretty blue paw print (that's the one Anne Elisabeth bought me when I was a bitty kitty), one is a handsome shade of red, and the other is lined with elegant green stripes. As far as food dishes go, they are acceptible.
These please my grace.
Then there was the most recent one. The gray one. The blah, bleh, blecky gray one.
It did not pass muster:
Bye-bye, gray bowl.
I don't see what you're kicking up such a fuss about, Anne Elisabeth.
Ultimately, this was your fault.
I mean, really? Who goes out and purposefully chooses a plain gray bowl? You'd think she was feeding feral cats with it or something!
It's about standards, Anne Elisabeth.
Do the world a favor and go get some.
And bring back some tuna while you're at it.