Surprise Diagnosis at the Vet: Frito is Overweight.


Please control your shock and amazement. It seems that the vet, with all of her incredible knowledge and wisdom determined that I was, indeed, fat. Even after I lost almost a 1/4 pound since my last visit four months ago! (I am just thanking my lucky stars that we put in that one extra brushing before we left! Dodged the bullet on that one!)

Well, the vet is again pushing the portioned controlled wet food diet plan. All in the name of urinary health or some other vet mind control nonsense--and once again, the human lady is buying into it. They’ve given me diet food before. First it was crunchy diet food. It’s not my favorite, but I’ve always eaten it. Then, a few months ago, they tried the wet food diet plan. CANNED, wet, stinky food! Does anyone know what’s in that stuff??? Why would anyone EAT that? It’s dumbfounding. I can only imagine what parts of unsavory critters get put into that stuff! Yuck. I’d rather eat plastic spiders (but don’t tell the middle kid!)

We had some ups and downs with that first trial. For a few days I gave in and ate it—but, we had some issues. I don’t care for fish, I insisted on turkey and only turkey. Of course, I prefer a plate rather than a bowl....I have some whisker clearance issues. And I hate to eat alone so my human Mom had to adjust her schedule to sit with me. I ate it for almost a week--I even lost a little weight.

Then it happened. I got a whiff of the roomate cat, Lea’s, breath and realized that the girls have crunchy cat food stashed somewhere! The betrayal! Well, that did it. I was going to get some real food! Mom put out the so-called turkey and giblets...I’m sorry, I know what giblets are—and even big psycho Sal E. Cat left behind the “giblets”…So, I, ever so casually, moseyed over to the plate and proceeded to pretend to bury it. I thought it was a good one. One of my best. Mom wasn’t amused. Then I summoned my best hairball gag sound and walked away. Mom didn’t find it nearly as funny as I did.

Oh, joy. We'll get to try it all again. Well, I refuse. If that bundle of ground up mouse ears and innards packaged into a cutesy little can is cat food, I must be a dog!

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