It was through the genius of B. Kliban (the “B.” stands for Bernard, who knew? I thought the “B.” stood for “Bill”.) that the world was introduced to the concept of the dreaded hamwort.

Pogo is a hamwort. I have rarely known a critter so determined to eat one particular thing that comes out of a human kitchen. Pogo is serious about ham.
Andrew and I often add a slice of ham to our lunch salads for a bit of protein. We frequently have ham in the refrigerator.

What I want to know is how Pogo can hear ham.

See, we keep the ham in a Ziploc bag in the meat drawer of the refrigerator. We keep a LOT of things in Ziploc bags in the meat drawer of the refrigerator. Cheese, the occasional vegetables that don’t fit in the crisper, sometimes nuts, fresh herbs…. a lot of things.
So Pogo isn’t taking his cues from hearing the drawer open then hearing the plastic rattle. Pogo never teleports himself into the kitchen when I’ve opened the meat drawer in the fridge to get out a package of cheddar cheese.
If you even think about getting the ham out of the meat drawer….. WHOOSH! There’s Pogo.

Flitter has some sort of weird sixth sense about when I’ve got my hair loose so she can jump on my shoulder and try to eat my hair.
Pogo hears ham.

We’ve got weird cats.