Dieting Dilemmas

The last few days have been a bit stressful, but not due to children. Or missing husbands. No...the stress stems from a visit to the veterinarian, with our poor portly kitty who has gotten so big, she has been having issues. The issues aren't with her health, per say, although I'm sure that is effected as well...no, our poor kitty can't reach around her belly to clean properly. This creates issues for all of us. She is one of three cats that we own, so for the sake of simplicity, I shall refer to her here as "Fat Cat," and the others will be "Normal Cats."

They began by weighing her. Now, let me start by saying that Fat Cat used to be very skinny. She was tiny, and sleek, and could leap tall counters in a single bound. We coaxed her onto the scale, and it read just under 20-pounds. She is supposed to weigh around 10-pounds. Needless to say, the recommendation was to put her on a diet. This is all well and good, but when you have two other cats who do NOT need to go on a diet, the situation gets more complicated. My sister, who came along with me, struggled to carry my cat as I paid the bill. The woman at the counter looked at the sheet, and then looked at me.

"Your cat weighs twenty pounds??"

"Yes."

"Oh...wow...I was thinking maybe they made a mistake when they wrote that down..."

We brought Fat Cat home, whose bottom was now looking a bit like a baboon (they did a sani-shave...to help with the cleaning issue.) She was not happy.

I started separating the cats during feeding time. This did not go well. Fat Cat refused to eat the new food the first day. Instead, she desperately tried to get into the old food, which we have in a big plastic bin. She tried knocking it over. She tried prying the top open. She tried chewing a hole in the bin.

Dinnertime came. Connor ate most of his cheeseburger, but I wasn't quick enough to clean up what remained...I looked over and saw a black and white paw come up from under the table and begin to drag the burger over the edge. I caught it...and Fat Cat gave me an evil glare before waddling into the shadows.

Day two did not go much better. She did nibble at the new food a little bit, but mostly tried to find ways to steal other food. I also think she began plotting ways to kill me.

Day three slowly got better. I have gotten good about being on top of the kids to take care of their dishes, and Fat Cat is finally starting to eat some of her food. Normal Cats are just confused. They don't understand why there isn't food in their bowl 24/7, but happily eat whenever I feed them.

I also bought a cat tower (it isn't very big, as it turned out,) on clearance. The cats in the picture on the box all fit nicely on all three levels. So, either my cats are seriously huge, or they used kittens for the pictures. Poor Fat Cat...if she manages to lay on the top level, her sides spill over the edge and the whole thing kind of teeters back and forth. The oldest Normal Cat sits on top of it like a huge gargoyle. The young Normal Cat isn't interested in the slightest.

I especially feel bad when I sit there, while Fat Cat is shut in the other room with diet food, eating chocolate when I know that I could seriously stand to go on a diet myself. And then I think, "Fat Cat...you're LUCKY. I wish I had someone to force me to eat healthy." And then I go grab a beer, because seriously...diets are stressful.