Pandora's Box

Back when C and I lived in Oakland, we were just two blocks from the nearest McDonald's. I was a sucker for their fish sandwiches. And my cat, Ebi, was a full-on french fry addict. I would eat my fish sandwich as I walked home from the McDonald's.  As soon as I stepped into the door of our apartment, Ebi would come running out from his sunny perch in the window sill.  I would then set the frenchfries, encased in the McDonald's brown paper bag, on the coffee table.  Before I could even sit down on the couch, Ebi would have knocked the paper bag onto its side and his head would have disappeared into the bag.  Within a second he would have dragged a fry out onto the coffee table, dropping it, half-bitten, to let it cool before devouring it.
 
Initially I accredited Ebi's lust for fried potato to his prior life as a street cat living in a convenience store parking lot. Then I learned that McDonald's adds beef flavoring to their fries and tried to break both my cat and myself of our fast food habits. However, I still grabbed an occasional fish sandwich, sharing bites with said cat.

When we moved to San Francisco, we lost that easy access to fast food (in trade for much tastier bites, such as Thai, Indian, and Japanese cuisines). Ebi and I also each lost about a 5th of our body weight.

I have yet to see the movie Supersize Me, though I intend to check it out. But I have certainly seen first-hand a supersized cat with an unquenched and constant craving for McDonald's.