We required four new food bowls to serve our cats adequately, so Father Goose, as the wife calls me, along with the alternate sweetheart appellation Guts o' Thunder & Cheese, plus the unnecessary For Whom the Bed Toils, headed off to do the shopping.
I found the ideal dishes, but there were only three labeled worthy of kitties, so I was forced to purchase one intended for another culture.
"Hey, these bowls look identical to me," I said, in case continuity might be needed later. "No one will ever be the wiser. I shall check-out now and leave my camera operative and handy, in case a cute photo opportunity makes itself available when I unpack the merchandise back at the abode."
Someone's feline intuition and evil eye went directly to the offending vessel. I got into the car and returned the dog bowl to the market, where I upgraded Morty to a cat gravy boat and the obligatory accessory, an official tabby captain's hat.