I have no idea what an Emergency Preparedness Plan is. (In fact, I didn’t even realise that “Preparedness” was a proper word until now.)
If we’re talking about surviving an apocalypse, quite frankly I wouldn’t want to; I’d rather be taken out by the asteroid/zombies/marauding Chats Noirs/whatever, than have to fight my neighbours for the last tin of organic plum tomatoes looted from Waitrose. However, if we mean generally having enough to get by in the event of all supplies being cut off, the only worry we have is Louis Catorze’s food.
If his Orijen supply were to cease, Catorze would just starve. Unlike humans, and most dogs, cats won’t settle for a below-par second choice in the event of their first choice not being available. There’s none of that “They’ll eat it when their natural survival instinct kicks in” logic. NO, THEY WILL NOT. THEY WOULD RATHER DIE.
The little sod does eat things other than Orijen; he is partial to a bit of jambon de Bayonne (the white fatty bits, not so much the pink bits) and organic aged Comté from the cheese deli (not supermarket Comté, and definitely not Cheddar). However, he only eats them in small amounts, as if he KNOWS they are a delicacy and that it would be vulgar to gorge himself silly on them (the feline equivalent of filling a wine glass right to the top, which Cat Daddy once did in a fancy restaurant and the sommelier was disgusted).
I can’t see Catorze eating enough to sustain himself – and, post-Armageddon, I imagine that fresh jambon de Bayonne and fresh Comté would be in even shorter supply than Orijen.
Catorze also happily tucks into the blood and heads of rodents but, again, even though we’re all told that rodents would survive a nuclear holocaust, I don’t think Catorze would be able to catch enough to keep him alive. And I don’t like the idea of him eating semi-nuked rats and turning into some sort of radioactive FrankenRoi. He’s enough trouble as it is.
In short, we don’t have a plan. If Catorze were to make it through Armageddon, his only hope is that we die first and then he could just eat us. I believe he would have the decency to wait until Cat Daddy were fully dead, but, with me, partially-dead would suffice … and he would start from my feet and work upwards.