Who doesn’t love a fat cat?

Hey, lady.

I’ve heard through the grapevine that people swoon over chubby cats. So why in the floof do you have me on this new diet and exercise plan?

I overheard you tell the man you want me to lose a whole pound by my next vet checkup in a little over a month. And actually, I’ve enjoyed the new toys you’ve been bringing home–like a crisp new crinkly tube and catnip mice and feather wands. You’ve even been getting me outside more on the leash. At first this all seemed like a most excellent arrangement, but that was before I learned about the “D” word.

“Diet.”

I’m not fat, I’m…well, yeah, I’m fat. So what?

In protest, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’ve been eating the little bits of carpet I’ve scratched off the cat tree. I won’t go down without a fight. And so far it seems to be working! My initial weigh-in was 16.8 pounds and nine days later I sat at a beautiful 17.2 pounds, despite increased exercise and near-starvation.

Neener-neener! Good luck!

Winston

Reality Check

Hey, Winston.

I can’t believe you’re so hard on our mom.  I mean, she’s the best mom EVER!  Sure, every now and then she slips up when she turns on the vacuum cleaner, lets strange people invade our house (I mean, your house!…please don’t bite me…), opens a can containing something other than tuna, or locks us out of the room at night if we try kneading her hair while she’s sleeping.  But overall, what’s there to complain about?

But seriously, you should probably start being nicer to Mom.  I overheard her telling Dad the other day that she’s going to put you on a diet and exercise regimen–YOU, not me!  So while she has you panting your whiskers off, I’m going to watch from one of the pillow forts Dad makes for me and pat myself on the back for being the good child.

Neener neener!

Orville

No Big Deal

Hey, lady.

So I’ve put on a little weight.  So what?  It’s not like I have any ladies to impress.

I remember, a few months back, when you tried to trim me down.  You gave me that godforsaken low-calorie food and you went as far as to strap me into a harness so you could take me on walks outside.  Luckily, you eventually gave up on both when you realized I was eating random things off the floor AND gaining weight.  (Nice try, lady.  You didn’t know I had that kind of a rebellious streak in me, did you?)

Now, I realize that when I went to curl up in this box, my kitty blubber split one corner of it right open.  I’d like to make it clear that the box was flimsy and poorly constructed, and this is in no way an indication that you need to get any bright ideas about buying more low-calorie food.

Winston

Cardboard box quality just isn’t what it used to be.