This is our cat. Her name is Parker. Even though she’s kind of butch, she’s not a male. People always think she’s a boy kitty. She has short stubby bow legs and her eyes are too close. They’re kinda crossed as well.
She’s quite fat and shaped like a bloated football.
We love Parker. Found her in a box with two other kittens. They were oh so tiny! We found homes for the other kittens and ended up keeping her.
Ms. Parker lives in a comfy home with a clean kitty box. She gets lots of snuggle time, fresh water and has full reign of the house. Sometimes we feel as if Parker is gracing us with her presence. It’s almost like she’s letting us stay there. Such a typical cat.
My favorite Parker-ism is the fact that she snorts like a bull. She does it when she’s dissatisfied with something.
Let’s say she jumps on the kitchen table (a little trick she knows she’s not supposed to do). I run in to shoo her off. She whips around with a “Who the hell are you?” look, lets out a big snort and jumps off the table. Not to get all anthropomorphic but…my cat is a bitch.
Here’s the part that’s distressing; she’s fat.
People come to visit, and Parker comes wobbling out prompting our visitors to say, “Oh my, what a big kitty!” and then shoot us that look. It’s the same look we get when we take her to the vet and they’ve just put her on the scale — the look of, “My GOD, just how much do you feed this animal??”
I’m here to set the record straight. She’s fat – deal with it.
Last time I took her to the vet, they kept going on and on about her weight and the potential for health risks as she gets older. I tried to explain that we’ve tried special foods and portion control. The vet insisted that a high-protein/low carb diet would be beneficial to our kitty. Naturally they had some expensive special diet kitty food right there. So, we bought the special food and basically put our cat on the Atkins Diet.
Or, as I like to say, the Catkins Diet.
Well, it’s been months now and Ms. Parker is still ginormous. She’s never going to lose weight, and I’ll tell you why. She doesn’t move. Why should she? She lives in a beautiful house with two manservants who dote on her. There’s no hunting or running from predators. The only threat to her environment is the vacuum cleaner. The cat does not engage in any type of physical activity.
One time while she was asleep, sprawled out on the floor. A little bug went skittering past. She lifted her stubby head, opened one eye to inspect the disturbance and then, uninterested, rolled over and returned to slumber land. To hell with the bug.
Why should she care about being so zaftig? There are no other cats around. It’s not like she’s trying to impress any other cat.
Speaking of other cats: No, our cat would not like a companion. She is the ultimate alpha kitty and doesn’t care for other animals — hell, she hardly likes people. Most of the time, when we have house guests, Parker is AWOL. She likes some men and rarely likes women. For the most part, our kitty is happy when it’s just us with the fireplace going and a warm lap to curl up on. Parker is a spoiled brat who communicates her disapproval by snorting.
I swear, if reincarnation is real and mankind could find a way to manipulate time, I want to come back as a cat — my cat.
