Exhibit c002: DIET AND ATTITUDE Why can't my cats remain thin and lithe, like those feline
models in Cat Fancy and Backdoor Kitty magazines? My unhealthy concern
over the figures of my cats rivals my own self-criticism. When I first
brought Coleman home I noticed what I thought were several eating disorder
warning signs. She would consume her entire bowl of food in a single
sitting, producing loud snorts as she aggressively pushed her bowl across
the kitchen floor. Each meal was eaten like it would be her last. And
her diet wasn't limited to kibble. There was the Blueberry Muffin Incident,
the Sesame Bagel Problem, and The Great Lemonheads Mystery (i returned
home after an overnight absence to find an empty bag of lemonheads on
my living room floor and evidence of only two or three actual lemonheads
candies beneath the sofa and behind my entertainment center. I didn't
want to think about where the rest of them went, although i have a pretty
good idea.). After bearing painful witness Coleman's destructive eating
habits for a few weeks, I decided it was time to take action
so I endeavored an intervention. I would grab her bowl from her and
hide it away on the highest surface in my apartment, forcing her to
temporarily curtail her binge-eating. I would let her catch her fat
breath, wait until she became bored or exhausted enough to move to another
part of the apartment, and then replace her bowl to its original location.
(making sure to do this like a cat food ninja, without a sound; not
even allowing the small scrapings of dried cat food against the inside
of the bowl lest her bionic ears confuse this with a special bonus feeding
time.) This worked for a while, until Coleman got wise and began
hiding around the corner until I finished my secret Bowl Replacement
Act. When I was through, pulling myself off the floor (I found the best
way to perform this act without endangering its success was to continually
keep my body level with the bowl. This meant completing the act lying
down with my belly flat against the linoleum floor of my kitchen) and
exiting the kitchen with a ridiculous sense of self-satisfaction (that,
on more than one occasion, including the exaggerated gesture of smacking
my hands against each other as if to say "and that's that!"),
she would just creep back in and finish what she'd started. This completely
undermined my efforts, of course, and forced me to enter phase II of
my forced feline diet. I started doing two things. First, I purchased only "less
active formula" food, hoping it would have some sort of balloon
effect in her stomach and cause hysterical bloating. Then I cut back
her portions, rationing her daily kibble intake across several meals
and "snacks" throughout the day, to prevent her from eating
everything at once. This plan backfired almost immediately because I'm
terrible with schedules and routines. Within a week I started forgetting
how much I had fed her and when and this produced a net effect of feeding
my cat about three times what she used to gobble down daily. Coleman
seemed grateful so I just continued, expecting I'd catch up with myself
and get her diet down perfectly in no time. P.S. Ble is small and thin, but slowly gaining ground. Even as I write this I am on hold, long distance to Osaka, where a team Japanese engineers who specialize in feline fitness equipment are constructing an elliptical trainer custom-built to her specifications. |
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