Saturday morning, I sleep soundly in my bed until I hear it. Thump. Thump. Startled, I sit up in bed, but the thumping continues. Armed with my polka dotted pillow, I slowly open my door to see what creature lies on the other side of my bedroom door. “Meeeoooooooooowwwwwww.” It’s just Sophie, my obese cat plopped in the hall to remind me that it’s time for her breakfast, which, other than dinner time, is her favorite part of the day.
I love my cat, though most people do not understand how it’s possible, fat rolls and all. When people see her for the first time, many question her ability to move. Though she does spend most of her time lying belly up on the couch, when she hears the sound of her kibble hitting her bowl, she stumbles off of the couch to reach her food as fast as possible.
In an attempt to help Sophie reach a healthier weight, I bought a medium sized dog harness and a leash (the small dog size was too small for her), and decided to take her for a walk. As a house cat, Sophie lacks all knowledge about the foreign outside world. After sniffing the grass for a few minutes, Sophie realizes that it isn’t harmful and that it is comfortable enough for her to lay in, so she decides to take a nap. Frustrated that she isn’t getting the exercise I had hoped, I attempt a different approach.
I throw one of her colorful mouse toys across the room, hoping that the catnip will entice her to chase it and get the exercise she missed on her walk. She stands up and casually trots over to the toy, sniffs it, then lays down on top of it––not the response I hoped for.
With no options left, I force Sophie to run by chasing her around my house, and hope the neighbors won’t see my insanity through the windows. However, after only a few minutes of my antics, Sophie decides that she is too tired to continue, and lies down for a cat nap––which I now need, too, after wasting my Saturday on an impossible task: trying to make my fat cat skinny.
