Fat Cat In Da House

Four years ago, when we rescued Frost from the shelter, he was a svelte two year old. He weighed in at eleven pounds.

This is a young Frost break dancing on the kitchen floor. Go, boy, go!




He could jump way up to catch things, he was very active and affectionate.

But he had this little problem that we  noticed right away. He was anxious about his food dish. He could actually be in a deep sleep, wake up as if panicked and run to his food dish to check the food supply there.

We knew the family that took him to the shelter had to give him up because they had both lost their jobs and couldn't afford him anymore. It was obvious he'd been loved and taken care of, but I began to wonder if they'd held on to him a little too long, and he'd not be given enough to eat for a while.

Food is always available because we are a four cat family (Shut up.). I've discussed it with the vet, and she says having a growing kitten, an elderly cat, and a nibbler, there is really no way to monitor Frost's eating. She says one of her cats is a fatty too.

Well, Frost is now a FAT six year old. He weighs sixteen pounds! Our Maine Coon, at present, is much taller, longer, bigger boned, and heavier furred still growing at fifteen pounds.

This is Frost today, trying to break dance, but choosing a much softer surface and never really getting off the ground.


So you can figure where the fat is.

I'm embarrassed when I take Frost to the vet. He has kidney problems, and now he is on a special food, but it isn't helping him slim down. And when they tried to do a CT scan of his kidneys, they couldn't see them for all the fat!!

I may have been a therapist in my former life. And I may have helped people with eating disorders.

But a fat cat?

Not a clue.

Man's First Temptation

I read somewhere that man's first temptation was with food.

Hmmmm. That's right, although I'd never thought of it that way before.

Satan didn't even have to dangle double chocolate fudge brownies in front of Eve to get her to cave. He did it with a dumb old piece of fruit. Imagine what kinda shape we'd be in, ladies and gentlemen, if he'd had a brownie!

It seems we've struggled with our relationship with food ever since.

Sometimes there is not enough and people worry how they will feed their children, much less themselves.

Here, of course, there is way too much, and way too much of the bad kind.

But we are tempted. We eat it anyway. And we are a country of fatso slobs. I, myself, need to drop fifteen pounds. By drop, I mean make them disappear. With, like, you know, wishing.

We have more eating disorders than you can shake a stick at - and even those of us who do not have an eating disorder, think about, at least occasionally, how we really need to 'cut back' on some food or another. Most of us need to, want to, lose a few pounds.

Being physically disabled, I am unable to participate in a lot of exercise. Being from the South, I have a hard time not participating in anything fried.

But I am a much smarter eater than I used to be. I really don't eat many fried foods, I cook with olive oil, I eat a lot of raw green things. I don't eat as much bread as I used to, and I make my sandwiches with good old wheat bread and about  half the mayo I used to eat.

I've cut out 90% of soft drinks. Only rarely do I imbibe.

But, as Scarlett O'Hara is my witness, I will nevah, nevah, give up sweet tea!

Thank you, Lord, Satan ain't from the South!