“We Are Not Made of Soya!” – A Strongly Worded Complaint from a Maine Coon Who Has Had Quite Enough

If cats were made of Soya, they'd look like the one on the left

Greetings, humans.

It is I: the large, handsome, magnificently whiskered gentleman who lives in your house free of charge in exchange for affection, regular meals, and the occasional opportunity to chew something you didn’t want me to chew.

Today I come to you with an urgent matter. A scandal. A culinary outrage. A betrayal wrapped in gravy.

I’m talking about soya in cat food.

Yes. Soya. Beans. Plants. Leaves. Bits of vegetable. Things rabbits eat. Things I do not eat unless they accidentally fall into my bowl and I’m too hungry to stage a protest.

Let’s Make One Thing Clear

We cats are apex predators. Lions, tigers… me.

We are obligate carnivores – which is the scientific way of saying we are powered by meat, fuelled by meat, and spiritually uplifted by meat.

We are not (I repeat: NOT) made of soya.

What on Earth Are These Manufacturers Thinking?

You open a tin expecting:

Chicken

Beef

Something exciting like venison

Or, if the day is truly blessed, tuna in spring water

Instead you get:

“Chicken flavour” (red flag number one)

“With added vegetables”

“Enhanced with plant proteins”

“Soya chunks” (I’m getting chills just writing this)

Plant proteins? PLANT proteins?

Listen, if I wanted to graze, I would have evolved hooves.

My Body Is a Temple. Of Meat.

I am a finely tuned machine built for:

Stalking

Pouncing

Knocking things off tables

Yowling mysteriously at 3am

And digesting MEAT

My digestive system did not graduate from the “Leaf Munching Academy”.

It did, however, earn a doctorate in “Processing Small Mammals at Speed”.

The Hypocrisy of It All

The packaging is the funniest part.

Bright, proud labels shouting:

“WITH DELICIOUS CHICKEN!”

while quietly whispering in microscopic print:

“Contains 4% chicken. And also… erm… quite a lot of soya, actually.”

This is like serving you a Sunday roast where the plate is 90% broccoli and one sad cube of turkey.

You’d riot. You’d write letters. You’d unfollow people on social media.

So imagine how I feel.

My Official Recommendations

To all manufacturers, take careful note:

If it once walked, flew, or swam, it’s perfect.

If it grew in a field next to the carrots… no.

If it requires the words “binder”, “filler”, or “extruded plant matter”… absolutely not.

If it has more ingredients than a human smoothie… who hurt you?

And To My Human

Please continue your excellent work as Chief Purchaser of Meat-Based Delights.

You’re doing wonderfully.

You may carry on stroking me now.

But if you ever bring home a “plant-forward feline wellness meal” again, I reserve the right to:

chew your charging cables,

sit on your laptop mid-sentence,

or throw up on the rug (the good one, naturally).

In Conclusion

We cats are elegant, noble, majestic predators.

We are majestic, furry carnivores of distinction and gravitas.

We are not made of soya. We are made of meat.

And the sooner the cat food industry stops pretending we’re tiny vegan Labradors, the better.

Yours sincerely,

The Maine Coon Who Speaks for Us All

Is There a Vegan Conspiracy in the Cat Food Industry?

Right, I’m just going to come out and say it: I think there’s a conspiracy afoot. And not just any conspiracy — oh no! I’m talking about a feline-focused vegan infiltration of the cat food industry. 

Because honestly, how else can you explain the recent trend of peas, carrots, rice, and other suspiciously salad-like items appearing in pouches of cat food that are supposedly “meat in gravy”?

Have the cat food companies been infiltrated by extremist vegan activists determined to “convert” our cats to the green side? Because if they have, my cat is having none of it.

Picture this: I open a pouch of “Succulent Chicken Dinner.” It smells… vaguely like chicken. I spoon it into the bowl, and there they are, neon-orange cubes of diced carrot staring up at me like an unwanted intruder at a meat feast. 

My cat, bless him, takes one sniff, eats around it, and spits out a perfectly formed little carroty chunk with the precision of a sniper.

I mean really, who decided cats need carrots or peas? These are animals that, in the wild, would proudly take down a vole, a bird, or maybe an unguarded burger from a neighbour’s BBQ. Not a legume or a grain of rice in sight. Yet here we are, serving them dinner that looks like it was rejected from a school canteen.

And don’t even get me started on the rice. Since when did cats need rice? Did someone see a Bengal cat and assume they’re all from Asia and therefore partial to a bit of wild rice or basmati?

Then there’s soya and wheat gluten — the stuff of vegan dreams but feline nightmares. I’m convinced there’s a secret meeting somewhere, where a group of anti-meat zealots in hemp jumpers are cackling over how they’ve snuck tofu into “Beef Flavour Feast.”

“Ha ha!” they cry, “Soon, all the cats will be plant-based!”

Meanwhile, the nation’s moggies are plotting revolution, one regurgitated pea at a time.

Look, I get it — humans are eating more plant-based meals these days. Good for us. But cats are obligate carnivores. That means they literally have to eat meat to survive. Trying to turn a cat vegan is like trying to get a shark to go swear off eating fish. It’s just not happening.

So why, in the name of whiskers, are we still finding vegetables in cat food? Is it a cost-cutting exercise? A misguided attempt at “balanced nutrition”? A way to tempt Gen X cat owners with gimmicky 'neqw' recipes? Or is there, as I suspect, a stealthy vegan uprising happening in pet food factories up and down the country?

Either way, it needs to stop. My cat doesn’t want your diced carrots, your peas of persuasion, or your tofu tyranny. He wants meat. Preferably something that once had feathers, fur, or at the very least, a heartbeat.

Until the cat food world comes to its senses, I’ll be standing guard — spoon in hand, ready to fish out every last unwanted vegetable like a true carnivore’s ally.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go sweep a small pile of rejected peas off the kitchen floor. Again.

Stop Putting Peas and Carrots in Cat Food – They’re Not Tiny Vegans!

Stop Putting Peas and Carrots in Cat Food – Why Cats Don’t Want Veggies in Their Dinner.

Ever seen your cat spit out peas and carrots? You’re not alone. Here’s why vegetables have no place in cat food, and why pet food brands need to stop adding them!

Let’s Get One Thing Straight: Cats. Eat. Meat. And Only Meat.

Pet food manufacturers... we need to talk. Enough is enough. Stop putting peas and carrots in cat food. Cats are obligate carnivores, not tiny, whiskered vegans with an interest in balanced nutrition and the latest fad diets.

No wild cat has ever been spotted delicately arranging diced carrots or shelled peas next to its freshly caught mouse. 

Yet here we are, in 2025, with supermarket shelves and pet shops lined with pouches promising “meaty goodness with a touch of garden vegetables.” A touch of what now?

And "avec des légumes pour votre chat" might look good on a sachet, but please! Get real!

The Daily Dinner Drama

Allow me to paint you a picture. Our large tuxedo Maine Coon cat swaggers in as he approaches his bowl with the enthusiasm of a lion approaching a gazelle. He eats the meaty bits with gusto… and then the show begins.

Out comes a perfectly spat-out pea. Peh. Another one. Peh. Then, with the precision of a Michelin-star chef, he pushes aside every cube of carrot. The result? A bowl of abandoned veg, like the sad leftovers from a school lunch.

It’s clear what’s going on here, he’s saying, “Nice try, human, but I know filler when I taste it.”

The Truth Behind the Veggie Madness

Let’s be honest. The peas and carrots aren’t there for the cats, they’re there for us. They make the food look more appealing on the packet. They bulk it out cheaply. They allow the marketing department to talk about “natural ingredients” and “a balanced diet.” Humans like lamb and peas, beef and carrots or chicken with wild rice so, we presume that our cats will like them too. 

Meanwhile, thousands of cats across the UK are rejecting their greens one pea at a time, leaving owners with a polka-dotted kitchen floor and existential questions about pet nutrition.

Cats don’t care about bright colours or “five a day.” They care about protein, taurine, and meat. You know, the stuff that keeps them alive?

Imagine If It Were You

Picture this: you sit down to a roast dinner, ready for a juicy bit of lamb, or a bowl of apple pie and custard and you find someone’s mixed in a handful of raw broccoli “for texture.” You’d be outraged. So why are we inflicting the same indignity on our feline overlords?

Time to Get Real, Pet Food Makers

Pet food companies please, we beg of you. Stop with the vegetable nonsense. Give us cat food that’s meat, not mush. Cats don’t want peas. They don’t want diced carrots. They want something they can sink their little fangs into without having to perform a surgical extraction of unwanted greens.

Because until you do, my wife and I will be here, night after night, fishing out carrots like a disillusioned dinner lady and watching our cat spit out peas like he’s auditioning for Britain’s Got Talent.

Final cat food Thoughts

Cats aren’t fooled by clever marketing or “gourmet” labels. They just want meat. If you want to make cat owners happy, give us food our cats will actually eat, without leaving behind a vegetable graveyard.

Until then, We’ll keep on serving dinner with a sigh, a spoon, and a mop for all those airborne peas.

And we have a friendly visiting ginger Tom who eats our cats' leftover food in the back garden. And guess what? Ginge spits the peas and carrot chunks out too!