Fat Cat
We rescued three kittens from the tree outside our local Burger King in the summer of 1999. They were tiny...less than a month old, and we brought them home to cat paradise. Because Perfect Daughter was allergic to cats but still wanted to own kitties, they took up residence in our garage. It was a good decision because that was the last time the herewergoagain house ever had a mouse around. Um, or a lizard. Or many birds. But, still, they have a cozy home in the water heater "room" (the male cat, Oliver, prefers to sleep in an old hamster cage. We think it's comparable to me sleeping in a vat of chocolate. Yummy smells and all that...).
The key to making sure they hung around when we first brought them home was to feed them twice a day, in the same place. Perfect Daughter (an authority on all things animal) insisted that we continue to feed them twice a day, even though, now--eight years later--we have more of a problem budging them FROM the garage than worrying about them imprinting on it as home. She also carefully selected a small dish. "A thin cat is a healthy cat" and all that.
SO, every morning, it's the same chore. Sweet girl feeds and waters the cats. Rowdy Son gets the dogs. We all wait until the bird insists we feed it, then someone grumblingly (is that a word?) throws seeds his way. The fish get taken care of "when we remember" and so far, we've only lost a couple...and surely that was old age. Then later in the afternoon, the cats only, and only the cats, get a second round of food. Small portions. "A thin cat is a healthy cat".
The thing is, sometimes Sweet Girl forgets to feed the cats. The way we know is that Oliver will accost anyone within walking distance of the house...meowing, rubbing his body against us, and yes, biting our legs. We tend to jump to it when he shows up. Whoever is in the garage or on the front porch feeds him and he's happy. But we always let each other know, because "a thin cat is a healthy cat".
Yesterday we came home from church late in the day after a meeting. The dogs barked for their food, which made my husband say, after reminding Rowdy son to feed them, "Don't worry, I already fed the cats twice today". I was just coming in from the garage where I had just fed them for the second time that day as well. As I told my husband, Sweet Girl piped up, "I also fed them." That made five times in one day. Shame on Oliver for biting me. Big faker.
OH, and I forget to mention...the cats? Not so thin.
The key to making sure they hung around when we first brought them home was to feed them twice a day, in the same place. Perfect Daughter (an authority on all things animal) insisted that we continue to feed them twice a day, even though, now--eight years later--we have more of a problem budging them FROM the garage than worrying about them imprinting on it as home. She also carefully selected a small dish. "A thin cat is a healthy cat" and all that.
SO, every morning, it's the same chore. Sweet girl feeds and waters the cats. Rowdy Son gets the dogs. We all wait until the bird insists we feed it, then someone grumblingly (is that a word?) throws seeds his way. The fish get taken care of "when we remember" and so far, we've only lost a couple...and surely that was old age. Then later in the afternoon, the cats only, and only the cats, get a second round of food. Small portions. "A thin cat is a healthy cat".
The thing is, sometimes Sweet Girl forgets to feed the cats. The way we know is that Oliver will accost anyone within walking distance of the house...meowing, rubbing his body against us, and yes, biting our legs. We tend to jump to it when he shows up. Whoever is in the garage or on the front porch feeds him and he's happy. But we always let each other know, because "a thin cat is a healthy cat".
Yesterday we came home from church late in the day after a meeting. The dogs barked for their food, which made my husband say, after reminding Rowdy son to feed them, "Don't worry, I already fed the cats twice today". I was just coming in from the garage where I had just fed them for the second time that day as well. As I told my husband, Sweet Girl piped up, "I also fed them." That made five times in one day. Shame on Oliver for biting me. Big faker.
OH, and I forget to mention...the cats? Not so thin.
posted by herewegoagain at
4:25 PM
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