Nov. 10th, 2009

alificent: Cat rubs on paint covered wall (cats)
So this morning, post-shred, I had a particularly hard time wrangling cats. As most of you who read this already know, I have one cat (MoonUnit) who has always been fairly active and reasonably in shape for a cat, and one cat (Midge) who was very fat until the vet recommended that she become Atkinscat, eater of soft food.

The problem is that Midge was a stray, and so she will EITHER wolf down any food in her immediate vicinity, then run and eat MoonUnit's, OR she will run to MoonUnit immediately, beat her up until she leaves her dish, eat THAT food, and then go back to her own and eat it. MoonUnit is too polite to go eat Midge's food during strategy 2.

I solve this by feeding MoonUnit in the office and closing the door. Lately, they have both for some godforsaken carpetstaining reason unknown to God or Man decided that they need to pick up the chunks of soft food, drop it on the floor, and eat it off the floor. I don't fucking know. Thanks, cold weather.

Midge has been dragging hers toward the office to try and get in there when I open the door to check my email/continue a raid/whatever, strategy three being to drag HER food under the end table, eat it, and then go beat MoonUnit. Meanwhile, MoonUnit has decided that when I am in the office with her, it is not time to eat food, it is time to get in my lap and get love. Which is... nice honey, but your dumb fat sister is going to be at the door wailing to eat your dinner in five seconds so EAT YOUR DINNER.

This morning, I opened the door to go get email and failed at wrangling; Midge zipped inside and MoonUnit zipped out, bowl still half full, and I threw up my hands like Pontius Pilate all DON'T LET ME STOP YOUR GREAT SELF DESTRUCTION, STARVE IF YOU WANT TO, YOU MISGUIDED MARTYR and just let Midge go to. Then I walked back in the kitchen and packed lunch.

I looked over the bar, and there is Mooners, rolling merrily around on the freshly vacuumed floor (as cats do), chasing what I assumed was her tail. Then I realized, she was playing. With one of my weights. That I use for embracing the Jillian Michaels. (It was one of the three pound ones.)

SO. Ninja does not want to eat heartily, is working out hardkor. (Three pounds is a lot for an eleven pound cat.)

I can only assume that an epic ninjitsu battle with the Clan of the Sun Dog is imminent.

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