The biggest gainer

When we got back from traveling over the holidays our lithe, agile little barn kitten had sprouted a Jabba the Hut gut. She probably gained at least a pound and looked like she'd swallowed a softball.

Apparently while we were off on vacation she did little else but eat. Hard to blame her, really. For 10 days she was alone with Jack-the-cat who hates her with a visible cloud of vehemence and her food bowl.

Aw. Food is love. Even for kitties.

Maybe because she started life as a barn cat she has food security issues. As in, if she can even glimpse the bottom of her bowl she begins a begging frenzy. Meowing, Twirling around your feet. Leaping on to wherever you planned to sit to twirl and meow in your way.

She does this even when there is a full cup of food in the bowl. If it is all around the edges, though, and not over the middle, the world is ending.

Jack's suggestion?

"Let's take a picture of her food and paste it to the bottom of her bowl."

Three blind mice

 

Let me introduce you to killer. No, that’s not her real name. But she was hired to be our Mus musuculus assassin.

But first, some backstory. Mater loves to play but being blind, isn’t so great a playing fetch. So Mater’s no. 1 fan found him a ball that made lots of noise so Mater could (theoretically) find it. When in motion, the ball laughs and screeches taunts at you. He loved it. We, however, weren’t so sad when it went missing.

Fast forward a bit. Jack has had surgery and must sleep in the recliner in the living room. Mater, as always, sleeps on the love seat and Sluggo in the wing chair (can you say spoiled dogs?). The three of them were sound asleep when suddenly there arose such a racket (sorry, I couldn’t resist). The laughing and taunting was coming from under the couch.

How? Doesn’t it have to be moving? Wasn’t Mater asleep?
Yes.

The mice were playing with it.

Now, we had tried to be neighborly with the critters, but things were getting out of control. Tiny black pellets were showing up in very inopportune places and tiny skittering parties could be heard over the sound of Two and A Half Men. But this? This was the last straw.

In came killer, one of the barn kittens. Poof! No more pellets and uninterrupted television. I am extremely grateful for this. Except of course when I have to witness the wrath of Ghengis Kat.

to be continued …