I solved a couple mysteries over the past couple days. First was The Messy Wall Mystery. The second was The Riddle of the Rotund Kitty.
You see, as Isabella has dropped weight over the past year, the formerly slim Casey has plumped up like a Ball Park frank. (New nickname: Rotundo.) I've cut his food ration and given the extra to Isabella to no avail - she's still scrawny and he looks ready to burst.
On top of that, the wall by Isabella's bowl is flecked with bits of food. And the floor is gross. Casey's area is neat and tidy. I clean up after Isabella but soon it's all icky again. I normally fill their bowls and leave them be, so I had no idea what went on in there while they ate. But since I'm really getting concerned about Casey's weight, I decided to sit down and watch. What I saw made me understand why I've got a fat cat and a big mess. Here's the routine:
The bowls are full and both kitties dive in with gusto. Casey is like a hoover. He can polish off his ration in under a minute. He devours every bit and then licks the sides and bottom of the bowl spotless. Isabella, on the other hand, is very diligent but slower. Much, much slower. Once Casey is done with his meal, he sidles up close to Isabella. Her face is in deep, leaving little room ... but there's just enough space for a little white paw to sneak in and flip! a hunk of food out. Some lands on the floor. Some hits the wall. Some is still on the little white paw. The stolen bits are gobbled up and the little white paw goes sneaking in again and again, Isabella paying no attention at all to the intrusion.
Eventually, Isabella steps back to take a breather. Never mind that she's been eating for ten minutes, there's still at least a third of her meal left in the bowl. This is the moment Casey's been waiting for. As Isabella rests and licks her lips, Casey dives in and polishes off what's left.
Yikes - it's laundry room larceny going on right under my nose. Casey is a thief and he leaves a huge trail of evidence. He's clearly addicted, so it's up to me to put a stop to the pilfering.
I'm now the food monitor. I serve up the meal, and sit down on the step and watch. Casey knows darn well he's not supposed to steal and watching him trying to resist is hilarious. He sits by me, but his attention is on Isabella. Soon, he s t r e t c h e s out his neck toward her bowl. Then a paw. Like I won't notice! I drag him back. When Isabella takes her break, Casey makes a dive for the goods, but I snatch up the bowl until she's ready to eat again.
I'm not thrilled about this new routine. I suppose I could separate them, but I dread the drama that would accompany such a change. So I'll just play cop until my little furry thief is reformed. Or forever - whichever comes first.
You see, as Isabella has dropped weight over the past year, the formerly slim Casey has plumped up like a Ball Park frank. (New nickname: Rotundo.) I've cut his food ration and given the extra to Isabella to no avail - she's still scrawny and he looks ready to burst.
On top of that, the wall by Isabella's bowl is flecked with bits of food. And the floor is gross. Casey's area is neat and tidy. I clean up after Isabella but soon it's all icky again. I normally fill their bowls and leave them be, so I had no idea what went on in there while they ate. But since I'm really getting concerned about Casey's weight, I decided to sit down and watch. What I saw made me understand why I've got a fat cat and a big mess. Here's the routine:
The bowls are full and both kitties dive in with gusto. Casey is like a hoover. He can polish off his ration in under a minute. He devours every bit and then licks the sides and bottom of the bowl spotless. Isabella, on the other hand, is very diligent but slower. Much, much slower. Once Casey is done with his meal, he sidles up close to Isabella. Her face is in deep, leaving little room ... but there's just enough space for a little white paw to sneak in and flip! a hunk of food out. Some lands on the floor. Some hits the wall. Some is still on the little white paw. The stolen bits are gobbled up and the little white paw goes sneaking in again and again, Isabella paying no attention at all to the intrusion.
Eventually, Isabella steps back to take a breather. Never mind that she's been eating for ten minutes, there's still at least a third of her meal left in the bowl. This is the moment Casey's been waiting for. As Isabella rests and licks her lips, Casey dives in and polishes off what's left.
Yikes - it's laundry room larceny going on right under my nose. Casey is a thief and he leaves a huge trail of evidence. He's clearly addicted, so it's up to me to put a stop to the pilfering.
I'm now the food monitor. I serve up the meal, and sit down on the step and watch. Casey knows darn well he's not supposed to steal and watching him trying to resist is hilarious. He sits by me, but his attention is on Isabella. Soon, he s t r e t c h e s out his neck toward her bowl. Then a paw. Like I won't notice! I drag him back. When Isabella takes her break, Casey makes a dive for the goods, but I snatch up the bowl until she's ready to eat again.
I'm not thrilled about this new routine. I suppose I could separate them, but I dread the drama that would accompany such a change. So I'll just play cop until my little furry thief is reformed. Or forever - whichever comes first.
1 comment:
We have the same problem around here - only with 4 cats instead of 2. And I usually will watch to see who's gonna play vulture for the day. ;o)
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