Fat Cat

We took Sprocket to the vet last weekend. All in all, it was a relatively calm experience, much unlike his first experience at the vet almost eight years ago. During that visit, Sprocket hissed and bit and lashed his teeth. The vet tech had to drape a towel over him to grab him, and it took two people to hold him down for his exam and shots. His behavior earned him a nice note on the top of his chart that reads in big bold letters: BITES. It was highlighted in yellow for emphasis.

Over the years, however, Sprocket has become a much better kitty and he no longer inflicts bodily injury on those who poke, prod, and stick needles in him. We went to a new vet since Husband and I got married and moved away from the old place, but poor Sprocket's criminal record still follows him. We had his chart faxed over from the other office, and there it is at the top of the fax- BITES.

For me, it was an opportunity to be grateful for how far Sprocket has come through the years. When I got him, the nearly nine-month old cat was a holy terror, inflicting damage and injury everywhere he pleased. He ripped wallpaper off the wall. He chewed electrical cords. He could jump six feet in the air. It was no surprise that his previous owner had gladly handed him over to me while proclaiming that she never wanted to see him again. There were some rough moments as Sprocket and I adjusted to life together, but over time he gradually became the cat he is today-- lovable and sweet, but with just enough of a mean streak to make him interesting.

But alas, his demeanor isn't the only thing that has changed. Along the way, Sprocket has become quite portly, weighing in at a healthy 21 pounds (plus a few ounces). The vet has proclaimed that he needs to weigh 14 pounds. So my dear precious kitty needs to lose seven pounds or he risks developing a number of health problems, including diabetes.

This is a problem. Don't get me wrong, I love Sprocket very much and want only what's best for him, so I will commit myself to helping him lose weight. But how do I tell him this? He already begs for food all the time as it is, and he makes our life miserable by waking us up early in the morning asking for food. How am I supposed to give him less than half what I give him already? How can I convince him that an indoor kitty such as himself can subsist on half a cup of food a day?

We're one week in to the project I have titled "Operation Slim Sprocket," and so far it hasn't been as bad as I expected. I'm spacing out his feedings as much as possible to try to prevent him from swallowing it all down at once. I'm giving him slightly less than I was before and I'm measuring it to an exact degree, but I'm still feeding him a cup a day. I'm none too excited about what will happen when I have to lower it even more.

And I also have this fear that all the weight Sprocket has gained through the years serves the very important purpose of keeping the biting kitty at bay. What if Sprocket regains his energy and evilness once he sheds the extra pounds? What if the weight is the only thing that has made him calm, bearable, and even sweet? I guess we'll just have to wait and see.