(This is a very special letter to my cat – my love, my joy, my giant-hernia-producing-pain-in-the-butt, cat.)
I saved you from sure extermination. That day I first saw you with your big red eye (that had been injured when a nail somehow got in there) and so tiny I could fit you in my hand. You stole my heart with your aloof and feral ways. I had to take you home and make you my own.
At first you were shy and would wait until I was half conscious on the couch before you would venture out and crawl up on my chest, where you would sleep, issuing forth your little snore. Fur soft as silk – a funny face with yellow eyes that said ‘I have no brain cells’ I quickly came to love you.
We had many adventures, and you learned how to be a dog from the old girl – who we finally had to put asleep. But we fared well for that year when it was just you and me. Then came the puppy, who you in the tradition of our family, taught to be a cat. To jump up on counters and perch on the back of sofas and chairs. To prefer eating from your cat box, rather than her dish. Oh sure, there was sibling rivalry but secretly, I knew you loved each other. As evidenced by the good morning kiss you give each other every morning. Followed by a barking and yeowling tussle.
But much as I love you my dear, overweight, obese and funny cat there are a few things we need to get straight:
1. When my eyelashes flutter at 4 a.m. I am not awake and getting ready to feed you, I am dreaming.
2. When the first fingers of sunlight filter through our guazy curtains, it is not time to feed you.
3. When I get up in the middle of the night to pee, it is not midnight snack time.
4. When I come home from work and I turn on my computer, it is not dinner time.
5. When I move, it is not feeding time.
6. When I speak, it is not lunch time.
7. When I turn on the shower it is not time to feed you.
8. Are you sensing a pattern here?
I know that you don’t like Roomie’s cats and therefore you refuse to leave our room, with all your hiding places and the doggie to protect you from the evil ones. But seriously, you need to go to Jenny Craig’s. You need to get a full length mirror and look, really look at yourself. It is time for some real tough love here. You are FAT. Yes, you are. You are F.A.T. fat. You must brave the great outdoors and chase some mice or lizards or spiders or whatever it is you like to chase. You must go out and kick some Roomie Cat butt and make a space for yourself in the yard, with it’s big trees and green grass and several patio chairs just right for napping in the sun.
You must, my cat, come to know that there is more to life than food.