He’s an overeater, not a purger. Take a look at his girth…
See, he’s a wee bit chunky, if you get my drift. He has to shop in the Husky section.
Usually when I see pets that are overweight, I get a little incensed at the owner. Of course, I am only mentally incensed. I don’t sit there and yell at the owner of the obese dachshund, even though I feel like it. I do it in my head. I will give you an example: Look at the size of your dog. You’re feeding him from the table aren’t you? You’re giving him bacon, I just know it. Do you want your dog to die? Do you want the neighbor dogs to point with their paws and laugh at your dog because it can’t get off of it’s fat ass to fetch a ball? You’re stupid.
It’s mostly dogs that you see roaming around with William Taft guts, not cats.
Fortunately for me, the condition of this cat is not my responsibility. He’s a rescue kitty. He is named Bobcat (note the ears) and he is eleven years old. He is also just under seventeen pounds. Looking through Bob’s vet records, Tim and I realized that he has slowly put on weight as he has aged. He is a large cat to begin with, and should probably weigh about twelve pounds. But for now, he basically looks like a marmot. Especially when he is running away. He has this low stance and he kind of waddles away with lightning speed.
Look at me. I am a pet photographer. “Look up here, Fatass – I mean, Bob.”
He even has this thick, stately neck. He is quite literally a “fat cat”, he just doesn’t have the money to go with it.
Our vet tech buddy Bonnie informed us that a cat’s whiskers should be as wide as its body. She looked at Bobcat and said, “I don’t think his whiskers can get any longer.”
I have been reading about diet pet food and considering the options. Right now, we are trying to feed our other cat, Haolie, in a separate room so that Bobcat does not dominate the bowl. He has a tendency to do this, of course. I can read the disgust on Haolie’s furry face while he waits behind
Fatty Bobcat for his turn at the kibble.
I am trying to lose weight, too, and will be sorely disappointed if Bob starts shedding pounds before I do. He doesn’t even have a gym at his disposal. I do. I clearly have the upper hand, here.
Or paw, as it were.