Things are definitely afoot at the moment, and not in a good way. I've just found out that Dr C and E are colluding on my diet.
It seems that E is actually feeding me not-very-much-at-all (I could have told you that!) so the actual amount that I'm to eat isn't to be reduced at all (thanks to the cat gods). Instead, in order to lose weight (~1/2 kg), I've apparently got to have "royal canin obesity management" food mixed in with my urinary food.
What the --? OBESITY? I am NOT obese!
This is all Ellen's fault. She was the one who asked Dr C if she thought I was fat. And Ellen is the one who has clearly not been encouraging me to do enough exercise. It's her responsibility, not mine.
All this, and I've just been stuck at home alone for 24 hours as well. My life absolutely sucks.
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Oh, obesity. Who cares about obesity? There's a far worse word that you said. Did you read what you said? Canin? That's short for canine. You do realise that. I think they think you're a dog. That's probably why you're having all these management problems. DevilCAT you need to tell them. DevilCAT. Go caterwaul it from the roof. But then you have been doing some distinctly canine activities, I hate to say. Like knocking stuff over and breaking it. Cats are meant to have grace. And shaking dirt all around the house. Cats are meant to be clean. Maybe you're having psychocatical issues? Just a thought.
Post a Comment