Friday, March 28, 2008


One of my cats stopped eating. Not the fat one, of course--he'll eat anything. Instead it's the little, smaller, nicer cat.

We'd been noticing that there had been more food left in the bowl lately. Half-pieces of food, as if they had been chewed but not swallowed. When I returned from staying at my mom's house, I did notice that she seemed smaller, but I figured it was just my having been away blurring my perspective. It wasn't until I realized that I could clearly feel most of her bones that I put two and two together and offered her a treat, which she scarfed down ravenously. Apparently she disliked the dry food so much that she'd rather starve. We picked up some canned cat food today. R and I never thought we'd be the kind of people to cater to our pet's whims, but here we are getting special food.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Don't worry... you'll never be as bad as my grandmother's dog was. My grandmother was cooking her an entire chicken per week and each meal took 15 minutes to prepare due to the making of wet food "meatballs."