Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Cat speaks out about inhumane treatment

It's a new year, and a lot new is going on. First, though, an update from last year. Elvis (see black-and-white cat in previous post's photo) has a grievance to air.

Elvis speaks

I want to tell the world of the indignity inflicted on me and my comrade Jack these past few months.

Now, I know I'm a bit on the portly side, but that's as it should be, for a cat of my stature.

The indignity began when the Saintly One got some wild idea about taking me to the vet, and put me in a defective cat-carrier for transport. As she lifted the carrier to put me in the car, it just fell apart. It was none of my doing. It was clearly defective workmanship in these newer, more cheaply made carriers that just snap together. It was workmanship, not my weight that was the problem.

Anyway, the carrier split apart, and I came tumbling out. The Saintly One quickly grabbed me and put me back in the horrid thing. She drove to the vet's office, where she carried it and me in, holding the carrier in her arms, instead of grasping its handle.

The vet's staff seemed to think that was pretty amusing. Then they weighed me, all glorious 24 pounds of me, and shock spread over their faces.

The vet took on a stern tone and said I simply must lose weight. Humph. The vet used no tact or sensitivity to my feelings. She sold the Saintly One some simply ghastly raw, frozen food for me and Jack to eat.

Oh, it was horrible. Jack and I both curled our lips at this stuff, which was billed as being like what cats in the wild would eat. Yucchhh. We are sophisticated housecats, thank you very much, not some kind of barbarians! We wouldn't even eat it when she cooked it for us.

We planned our strategies. We refused to eat the stuff, no, not even any kibble that brushed past it. Jack was most adamant about it, and lost a noticeable amount of weight. I timed it so I could steal food out of the dog's dish. Despite my efforts, I lost some weight.

Finally, the Saintly One gave up on the vet's stuff, either raw or cooked. She cooked it and fed it to the dog, Betsy, who refused to act in solidarity with us, and ate it like it was good. Paugh.

I eagerly looked forward to the return of our regular rations, but they remained small. My heart soared when the Saintly One came in with some canned cat food, but alas, she added only little bits of that to our diet.

Betsy caught on to my pilfering out of her dish, and guards it vigilantly now.

I've had no chance. I've lost some of my glorious girth.

Oh, I've worked hard to save it. For example, I stomp up and down the length of the Saintly One while she lies sleeping, in a vain attempt to get her to get up and add food to my dish. She just knocks me away.

I eat my canned food quickly and go for Jack's, but I'm not always successful at getting it. Then, I eat the dry food.

I beg and beg, but my normal rations have not been restored. I'm just a shadow of my former self.

Is this any way to treat a dignified, 10-year-old cat? I ask you.

I'm calling on all cats to support me. Start sending cards and letters to the Saintly One, demanding this inhumane treatment stop now.



Lois Keen said...

Too bad Elvis. I'm with The Saintly One on this. No sympathy here! (Now if I could only lose those ten pounds...)

Göran Koch-Swahne said...

I am with The Saintly One also. But my cats have never been fat - the disappear instead. Not much better!

Ellie Finlay said...

Too funny!

It's a problem, isn't it? I have three cats. Two are quite slender. The other is definitely hefty. Since they all eat together I don't know how to put the portly one on a diet! If I try to close doors in this house, there is hell to pay! They shriek and scratch and demand, "Open this door this minute!"

Saint Pat said...

Thanks for the support!

Ellie, I have the same dilemma - one slender cat, Jack, who has gotten even slimmer with the new program, and Elvis, who despite his protestations of being a shadow of himself, is still pretty round. Then, there's Betsy, the best dog in the world, who is also slender, though she has a taste for cat food.

I feed the cats on a table in my spare/junk room, so Betsy doesn't grab it. How to separate the two cats? Sigh.

PseudoPiskie said...

I'm sorry but we have little sympathy, Elvis. My friends and I live outside. Our mom tries to give us warm food every once in awhile but she doesn't know when we are around to eat. Eating catfood when it is frozen solid is not easy. And going out in -2 to get to the food isn't easy either. At least mom provides foam and blankets and shelter and a bowl of heated water for us. So suck it up and lose the weight. You'll feel better.

Timid, PuddyTat, Tommie, Dude and Jellico

Lisa Fox said...

Sorry, Elvis, but here's another vote for Saint Pat.

One word of advice, Pat: Do not cook the raw food if (like the kind I have) it includes ground bone matter. When raw, the bones are pliable; when cooked, they are sharp and splintery and can harm your children.

Good luck with the diet. I know it's a challenge.

Padre Mickey said...

Señorita Chompita Wiggletail has been on a raw meat diet for about a year, and her thyroid problem has gone away, and she no longer loses her hair.
She is also about 40 lbs now; quite stocky!

Padre feeds her raw chicken, chuletas, and even carne molina. It took a while but she even licks her lips when she sees Padre pull a little bag of food outta da fridge.

eileen the uppity woman said...

Hahahaha! I luffed this!

(((((Elvis)))))) Life is often a bit degrading, and a bit of a drudge - or well, even a kick in the teeth from time to time. I know as a cat this the rest of the lot has already said..tough titties!!

Saint Pat said...


I really feel kinda guilty,now. I've never known what it is to be like the cats Pseudopiskie cares for. I've never once had to stay out in the cold. Saint Pat even puts nice microfleece throws on the sofa for Jack and I to sleep on. We really love them.

I CAN'T HELP IT -- I'm a food addict. I love my kibble and cat treats. I just couldn't get used to that horrible raw stuff, though. (It's FINE for dogs.)

Thank goodness, it's all gone now. The dog ate it. The Saintly One didn't try to replace it.

Now, if I can just be heartbreakingly sad enough, maybe she will fill the food bowls like she used to.

Yes, life can be a bit of a drudge.

-- Elvis