I've been chatting lately with some of my cat-blogging friends about the challenges of being a Particularly Cuddly Cat. (Yes, I call it Cuddly, the v-e-t calls it Obese, my mum calls it Fat). Humans are very contrary - one minute they're cooing over how lovely it is to cuddle a plump furry cat, next minute they're frowning over the scales and mentioning the D-word (you know, D-I-E-T).
My name may be Fat Eric, but I prefer to think of myself as a cat of generous proportions. I've been that way for a long time. In fact, I was fatter when my mum and dad adopted me than I am now. The lovely ladies who looked after me in the cat sanctuary told my mum, "That cat looks like he's swallowed a rugby ball - or maybe he's just swallowed another cat." My mum may not think I've lost enough weight in the last few years, but she has to admit my silhouette is a little more streamlined than it used to be. (I have photos to prove it).
Anyway, for the last two years my food intake has been cut down and down, and I have this special diet food from the v-e-t. My mum is pretty strict with me, but I have stayed large and cuddly, mainly because I don't burn off the calories due to my extremely relaxed lifestyle. Hey, I can still get upstairs and jump in bed with my mum and dad, it's not like I'm one of those super-fat cats you see on TV who can't even walk. Still, I know my mum is doing it for my own good - she doesn't want me to get diabetes or one of those other fat-cat illnesses.
I know some of my cat-blogging friends have suffered from diet-pushing mums too - Shaggy has been put on a diet, and so have Edsel, Sophia, Max and Smeagol. How we all envy those lithe, skinny kitties who can eat anything and not put on a pound.
OK. I have a little confession. I wasn't going to confess this, but my mum is standing over me looking stern. She is not happy with me or my dad today. You see, my dad is a lovely person but he is kind of vague. He is always forgetting stuff. One of the things he forgets is how much food I am supposed to have for my diet. Lately my mum's been very busy and quite often it's been my dad who has been giving me my breakfast or dinner. And - heh, heh - he gives me more food than my mum does! Plus, I am only allowed two kitty treats a day, but dad gives me five or six at a time! But now mum has rumbled us. She came home last night and looked in my bowl and asked my dad how much food he gave me (because there was still loads left in my bowl). Then she looked at me and I was guiltily licking my lips after pigging out on treats.
Now dad has promised only to give me the same food that mum does, so my days of sneaking extra food are over. Maybe I really will start losing weight now...