Fat Cat ~ Nonfiction

 

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Fat Cat - Nonfiction

Names have been changed to protect the guilty. “Bizzy”, THAT cat, she with the long hair thing goin’ on, ball of grey fur over a gourmand. Food? Hell to the yes!

Hey, you up there, check this, my bowl is empty. See? Empty, it’s been empty for days, I’m really hungry, could you, would you stop whatever else you’re doing and put lots of that yummy canned stuff in my bowl? I’m sooooo hungry I’ll even eat that dry junk, I’m about to die of hunger, I need food. Please. Please. Now would be good, dare I suggest immediately? How can you let me starve, I thought you liked me, but empty bowl says otherwise. Hey, hey, how about it? Even those lame little snack things would help me not die in the next minute. It’s been days, really, days since you’ve put anything in my bowl. Days. I’m dying. Food, I need food, I’m about to faint. Hey! HEY! I really need you to get this handled ASAP.

Dead cat ain’t what we’re goin’ for, or is it? You want me to die of starvation right in front of you? Well, I have a few options down here, like rubbing your leg enough that you can’t walk without me letting that foot go, so hey, put some really good wet food in my bowl and show me LOVE!

Don’t make me go to next option – I have the emergency PETA #. Do you want them at the door with the cops to arrest you for starving me? Come on, I know you’re smart, but how can you miss “empty bowl=dead cat?” Haven’t I been the dream kitty you always wanted? You bet I have! I’ve been great to you, notice you when you come home from work. I’ve been very busy keeping the pressure up on the hubby in the back room “working from home – covd something.” That dude is oblivious to my cries of “food” “food” “food.” I think he’s been eating my canned stuff and telling you that he fed me! See that empty bowl? Proof!

Yeah, yeah, the vet said I gained a pound. BS. I’ve kept this a secret, but with all your friggin’ panic that I gained a pound – A POUND – big damn deal. Cats are starving all over the world and you’re all nutsy about me gaining a pound? I  see it’s time to give some hard facts. Under all this fur, and oh man, do I have the FUR thing, well, when I knew you were going to do all the mess to get me to the vet, I slipped under the back stairs and strapped on. Yep, I do the open carry thing. Great little way I can tuck that sweet little gun inside my belly fur, and guess what, that little gun weighs, oh, about 1 pound. And why, you ask, do I do such extreme things just to go to the vet? Well, you were so busy with your phone stuff last time we were in the wait room at the vet, you didn’t see that wicked cat killer dog who tried to sniff me through my wire box thing. Next time any dog gets that close to me, bang.

Oh hey, how about lunch? You’re eating, what about me? I’m so so so happy when you put some wet stuff in my bowl! Fish! Chicken! Beef! Any! All! NOW, please. Like right now, I really really really need some food immediately.

What? You’re going away and that Karen will stay here? Oh, ick. She’s so lame, she forgets that I’m supposed to get breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks, mumbles something about what you told her, I doubt it. Why would you want her to come here just to watch me die? And damn her, I claw on her bedroom door for hours in the middle of the night, she refuses to let me in, has some mess about not wanting me in her face while she sleeps - - HA! That’s my worst image, too, you Karen, hell to the no, I do NOT want to get in your face. I just want you to get up, open a can of food, plop it in my bowl. How hard can that be? And OMG, speaking of eating, she’s the one who eats soooooooooooooooooooo slow, and I have to watch her chew, chew, chew, all while I’m about to cash in my chips while she munches so slow I can barely stand watching her. She must have that Buddhist Monk thing goin’ on with her painfully slow eating fault. Clearly she doesn’t like food. I do. I love food. Food, where’s the food?

How I dream of food, esp. the wet stuff, 10 little cans all open, all dumped in my bowl, oh what joy to eat and eat and eat. A cat can dream.

So, how about it? You? Food in my bowl? Now? I’ll chat you up with my Cat Gods, they will pray for your ancestors, they will throw coins at your feet, they will swirl like Whirling Dervishes when they see you putting some real good wet stuff in my bowl! Me be hungry, you have power, don’t abuse it, just feed me. Yeah, yeah, I like watching the birds in my window seat, fat little ones eating ALL day. Maybe I’ll get to come back as a bird and eat all day, every day, now there’s a thought.

I’m about to die, I feel the lights going out, I’m weak, I’m stumbling, I’m faint, I’m starving. I’ll put you in my will, you get all my hair balls, all my toys, all my facebook friends. Oh – didn’t I tell you? Yeah, I have a FB account, gotta drool over all the cat photos of them eating. Really, photos of my kin eating! Why can’t that be me in that photo? I’m gonna die any minute, please please please put the good stuff in my bowl. Soon, sooner, immediately, now, instantly, save a life, feed me. Did I mention my bowl’s empty?