Darqstar (darqstar) wrote,
Darqstar
darqstar

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Things I should probably give a crap about, but I just don't.

Goten is fat.

Don't get me wrong, he's not one of those cats who's belly drags along the floor when he walks, or that his legs don't even hit the floor because he's so fat, he's still very mobile, but he's fat.

Then again, so am I. *shrugs*



Now, curiously enough, Goten gets the most exercise in the family. Why at 2:00 this morning, he had a lovely stroll across my face, no doubt because something inside him screamed, "Mommy's face needs to be stepped on by paws that have been scraping in dirty kitty litter right now!" Good thing I was laying down, giving him easier access. But anyway, Goten gets a lot of exercise. He runs about the apartment like his kittyass is on fire for about six hours a day. Then, he also spends a good half hour or more, trying to knock the Wii remote out of my hand, or play with the cord that connects the remote to the nunchuk. He's also been lobbed in the head by said remote and nunchuk, which might account for his inability to stop running about the apartment. However, seeing that the Wii is a rather new addition, we can't blame everything about it.

Other parts of the day he gets his cardio up there by making violent love to my shoes, or playing alarm clock for Todd. He's a very good alarm clock, if he stands on the end of the bed and meows at the top of his lungs, it does wake Todd up. Then, if Todd thinks he might wish to drift back to sleep, the ever digilant Goten will do his part by going over to him and rubbing all along him, getting cat hairs up his nose so Todd can sneeze for the next twenty minutes. In fact, I'd be half tempted to market the Goten alarm clock except for the little annoyance that he can't really tell time, so he has a habbit of waking Todd up whenever he (meaning Goten) gets it in his mind that Daddy ought to be Up and Around and FEEDING HIM, which seems to be about every three hours.

So, Goten gets a lot of exercise, really he does. Yet, he's fat.

Then, we have Chrissy, who really doesn't get around much at all, but prefers to spend her day sleeping, stressing out, and rubbing her ears. No she doesn't have anything wrong with her ears, we've had that checked about a bazillion times, and there is nothing wrong with her ears that can be seen. But, she doesn't move nearly as much as Goten. However, stressing out must really burn those calories, because she's all skin and bones.

They get the same amount of canned food, half a can every day. And, actually, Goten probably gets about a third of his half, because Chrissy, who normally acts like Goten is evil on four paws, and will KILL HER WITH A LOOK, suddenly becomes Super Brave KittyBitch when it comes to canned food. She woofs her half down so fast you know she didn't taste it, then bowls Goten out of the way and woofs on his.

Goten's reaction is to get out of the way and sigh. Another odd thing, because usually Goten's reaction to Chrissy is, "Oh boy, a toy that looks sorta like me, gonna chase it!"

Yet, Goten is fat, Chrissy is thin, thin, thin.

And my vet has this habbit of being quite annoyed by Goten's fatness. Especially because my reaction is, "Oh well." My vet doesn't like that reaction. My vet wants me to stress about this. My vet wants me to limit Goten's food, the problem being that should I limit Goten, the fat one, I also must limit Chrissy.

He tried to play the game of, "You need to give this cat more exercise!" until I explained to him that because he was a crazy cat when he was younger, and we would try to exhaust him just so he wouldn't try to bash his head into the walls, we play with the cat a lot. More than we might play with a normal cat. So, unless we want to find a way to perminantly keep him on a little kitty tredmill, there really isn't much way we can exercise him more.

He's not a people food eater, unless of course, it's ham. Or shrimp, or I'm eating it. And even then, I don't often share with him. Chrissy, on the other hand, not only wants what I'm eating, but will come over and snatch it right off my plate and run off. I think she feels if she takes it off my plate, that counts for hunting and killing it.

My vet also isn't too keen on the fact that when he plays the prophet of DOOM for Goten and points out that overweight cats don't live as long, that I point out that the day I took him in off the street, I gave such a huge increase to his life expectancy that I'm really not worried about it. If he dies of a kitty heart attack, well, I'll be sad, but that's life.

I think my vet really wishes I'd burst into tears when he tells me Goten is fat, and then fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness, then buy that expensive reduced calorie catfood he sells. He gave me a free can once and I am convinced that the stuff isn't low calorie, it works because the stuff is so vile no self respecting cat would eat it.

"Try it," says my vet.

"I did. The cat wouldn't eat it. Neither cat would eat it."

"You have to stand firm."

"I do stand firm, but unfortunately, as I'm standing firm, Chrissy notices that my legs are now hitting the floor and thus will make lovely scratching posts for her to whittle away the hours, until I get my shit together and get her and Goten some real food."

"Ha hah!" my vet laughs, "You're so funny, Darqstar. Seriously though-"

"Why does everyone think I'm joking about that? Wanna see my legs? I still have the scars from the one day I tried to give them that crap."

"Well, Chrissy doesn't need to be on a diet, so you could give her the regular food and give Goten the reduced calorie stuff."

"It won't work. Right now we have an agreement. On most things, Goten has the right of way. When it comes to canned food, Chrissy gets the lions share, which includes about 2/3 of his. It's odd but it works for us."

"So, what are we going to do about Goten's weight problem?"

"I dunno. Dye him so the stripes are vertical? I hear vertical stripes are quite thinning."

"You don't take me seriously, do you?"

"Sorry, nope." At this point, I look at the floor and drag my foot around a bit, hoping I come across like I really want to care, I just can't find it in me to do so.
"Okay. Well, we'll see you in six months, or until Goten eats your shoes, whichever comes first. Please pay the receptionist on your way out."

"No problem doc. Have a good day."

So, Goten is fat. Chrissy is thin. And I just can't get all that worked up about it.

I did buy the water bubbler for them. A biodome looking thing that cats are supposed to juuuuuust loooooove. Chrissy is terrified of it. Goten thinks it's an awesome toy. He plays with it, then goes to the old dish to drink the old, crappy water.

We're going on vacation Sunday. I'll leave the old waterdish and the new until we return home. When we're home, I'm going to put the old one away, and make sure the lid on the toilet is down. They will learn to like the fresh, clean, delicious water, OR ELSE.

I'm such an asshat to my cats.
Tags: cats, chrissy, goten
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