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Thursday, March 5, 2015

Contemplations of a Fat Cat OR I am Blogging About the Cat Again

In case you're new to this blog, I'm a writer/author/storyteller who publishes independently.  I often blog about whatever strikes my fancy.  My daughter has two cats.  One is Megaroy, the moron cat, a Maine Coon mix with all of the IQ of a box of rocks.  The other one is Splotch, our adopted stray who is now an inside cat.  I often make fun of Megaroy, because I have to, and mostly because it's super easy.

Tell me.  Who wouldn't make fun of that?
I can't count how many times I've used
this picture.  He's totally asking for it.
Of course, there are others because I haz a smart phone with a cameraz.
I also haz a autosketch program where I can do
what I want with captions.  This makes for
much amusement.  (Another photo which is
well-used.  After all, it's LadderCat, with his
ears all sideways.  You know he knows I'm
making fun of him.)
And since I'm on a roll.
Yes, I took a photo of the moron cat playing in
the potty.  I couldn't help
myself.  (There was a bug fluttering around
in the water, in case you were
But now, there's Splotch.
Splotch is our rescue cat.  He was a stray we
fed for about a year until I could get him
to trust me, which was a problem for him
when I scooped him up and shoved him
in a cat carrier to take to the vet.  But
he forgave me eventually.
Splotch is what I would call well-nourished.  Since he was an outside cat, I believe that his reasoning is to eat everything because it might get swiped.  Meanwhile, Megaroy is looking on with a puzzled expression on his face and the obvious thought that went through his little pea brain, "Hey, why ya eating the whole bowl?  It's not going anywhere."  Consequently, Splotch has become fat.  16 pounds at the last vet visit.  That conversation sits on me just about as well as when I have to go to the regular doctor.

Doc: Did you know your cat is overweight?
Me: That explains the back pain I have when I pick him up.
Doc: That's not healthy for cats.  Do you give him table scraps?
Me: I eat the table scraps.
Doc: Haha.  Don't give the cat table scraps.
Me: I don't give him table scraps.  He eats his food and then he eats Megaroy's food.  I don't know why Megaroy hasn't lost weight.  (13 pounds and I got a lecture about that, too.)
Doc: We might have to put him on a kitty diet.
Me: He howls in the middle of the night.  Do you know why?
Doc: Why?
Me: The dry food bowl has run dry.

Of course, this isn't Splotch, but it looks a lot like him.
I thought I had such a fun time going to the regular doctor and discussing weight issues.  Well, it's twice as much fun discussing the cat's weight with the vet.  Why you might ask?  Because I'm getting looked at like I deliberately made the cat eat his food and Megaroy's too.

I have never owned a fat cat before.  Or dog for that matter.  Or goldfish, guppy, parakeet, etc.  We've always subscribed to the keep the-kibble-full theorem.  The animals knew it was there; they didn't stress out.  However, Splotch has food issues.  It's not an issue if he eats it all.

Here's Splotchy in his second favorite locale, enjoying
human leg warmth.  Does that look like a fat ass?
(Don't worry, I don't think he reads.)
And yes, that's an exercise ball in the background.
For some reason, the cats don't want to use it.
Here's my other issue.  If Splotch were any other cat, I would just chase him around the house every day for exercise.  Good for him, good for me.  Win/win.  Problem: he's scared of people.  He trusts me but not if I try to play with him.  It's too threatening.  I can chase Megaroy around all the live long day, and he likes it.  I chase Splotch for about a foot and he goes to hide under the bed for the rest of the day, which is good because he's not eating but bad because the poor thing is scared.
One of Splotch's favorite floor spots near the kitchen.
When Splotch runs his belly swings from
side to side.  I wonder if it hurts.
So I try to get him to play by using string or a cat toy.  I drag it around.  Splotch watches it, bats at it, then falls over, and bats it from a prone position.  I think the cat knows I won't make him work for it, which means he's about ten times smarter than Megaroy.

Consequently, we have a moron cat and a meatloaf cat.  Anyone who knows their Kliban will recognize that, but here's the cartoon for the reminder:
Now I know how to put the cat on a diet.  I have to put Megaroy's food on the table because Splotchy is too fat to jump up there.  (That's going to be a vicious cycle.  Splotchy will lose weight, jump on the table and eat Meg's food, get fat again, and then won't be able to jump on the table again.)

Okay.  Fat Woman out.


Carol Voeller said...

I have 3 cats.. all were rescues one of them sounds like splotchy and he's kind of 'fluffy'. okay, he's more than fluffy he weighs almost 20 lbs, I have to brush his back because he can't reach it to groom himself. The other 2 cats are of normal weight and don't need to go on a diet. Poor JR is nearly as wide as he is long. Vet is not happy with me. I told the vet that I'm afraid if I try to put him on a diet he will decide to start dining on me while I sleep.And how do you put ONE cat on a diet when you own three of the little demons?

Ellen Drake said...

My Aristotle weighs 22 pounds at last check (he was close to 24 at one time. I broached the subject of his weight with my vet, and he said, "Some cats are just big. I have a big cat." Still, every time I take him in, I have his blood sugar checked. I have four cats and four food dishes. I used to have them close together, all in a row, but Aristotle would park himself in front of them and dare the other cats to eat. I started scattering the food bowls all over the living room, and he can guard only one at a time. Still, the other kitties look around cautiously as they approach the food bowl. I have been partially successful with putting some of the food bowls too high for Aristotle to access, but I'm afraid the other cats still eat the one on the floor, and my pet sitter says its equally unhealthy for a cat to get too little food. So, there you go. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.