Fatty is my weight-challenged cat who is also unemployed and living with my parents. Unless you consider napping to be full-time employment, in which case, give this kid a raise!!
She's adorable, kind, gentle, and quite...large. Like in November at the vet, she was 18 lbs of large. BUT NO LONGER! Thanks to, of course, The Fat Cat Diet.
The Fat Cat Diet (henceforth to be mentioned as TFCD) is a complex system of English and Persian dialogue and can opening that can only be described as an abysmal daily debate that sometimes comes to shouting. Seriously. To feed a cat.
Granted, I'll take the blame for the crazy levels to which TFCD has risen and continues to rise. After all, it was my desire to avoid my babycake getting diabetes that forced one and all to participate in TFCD. But I know this! And I'm anal! So I made charts, graphs, and even put out a food scale to assist in the feeding of the cat. A typical day is as follows:
6 AM: Dad wakes up. Fatty becomes terribly alert at the possibility of being fed any second now. Poor thing still hasn't figured out that she won't eat for another hour, even though this happens daily. Sometimes she meows her displeasure, but usually she keeps it together until...
7 AM: Dad feeds Fatty her breakfast - 2 oz. of wet food. Oh the joy Fatty feels coursing through her somewhat whittled down kitty body - "YES! I get to eat chicken and herring first thing in the morning!!!!!" she muses.
9:30 AM: I wake up. Fatty gets out of her cat bed that is shaped like a pink convertible (complete with wheels and a windshield. all plush. i'm not kidding.) and jumps on the floor to roll around at my feet in greeting. What a muffin!
2:30 PM: Fatty looks at me from her convertible with laser eyes of rage. "I'M HUNGRY, B*TCH!" she thinks at me with furry thoughts and just a twinge of crazy in her eyeballs. I think, hmmmm. To feed the cat now, or wait until after 3. Can I risk it?
3 PM: Rendered incapable of thought or sense other than food and hunger, Fatty plops over on the floor and stares into space, in that creepy way where her eyes are open, but she's not seeing anything. It might be time to feed her now.
3:30 PM: Fatty shakes awake as if roused by some unseen source, runs over to me, and gives a hearty, "MEOW!" She knows I'm an idiot and need to be reminded that she's hungry. After all, I'm watching Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reruns, and let's just say I'm engrossed.
3:34 PM: Fatty gets 1 oz. of food. "WTF????" she thinks to herself. "All of that work and only 1 oz of food!!!!!!! In the morning I get 2 oz and all I have to do is wake up!"
4 PM: "MEOW. MEEEEOW," she says heartily. Yeah, you're not getting more food, cat.
6:30 PM: "MEOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she screams, the second she opens her eyes from her late afternoon nap (not to be confused with her morning nap or early afternoon nap). Ok fine, I feed her 1 oz of food.
9 PM: Fatty circles my feet like a shark attack while I'm using the computer. Cat, I have emails to write. And by that I mean twitter to check. I don't have time for this cute nonsense.
9:30-10 PM: Fatty gets her 2 oz. of dinner, which oddly she never eats in full right away. She prefers the eating in shifts method. Maybe she's having a dinner party over there all alone - appetizers, main course, dessert. I have no idea.
Though this is a typical day of cat feeding that doesn't warrant much discussion in the family circle, suffice it to say that if I have band rehearsal one night that starts at 7, or I won't be home until after 10 (OH NO!!! THE AUDACITY!!!), I am pummeled with slanty eyes and the guilty consciouses of both parents and a cat, their heads shaking at me in unison.
Hey, Fatty lost 1 lb since November! It's working!!!!