Buddy losing his normally meowscular and ripped physique is my fault.
Ruh roh! It’s diet time again.
The meowing protests have begun.
Buddy has noticed his dry food tastes a little bit different, and he’s not happy. And while he may not be good with numbers, he strongly suspects his snack allocations are a little light.
He’s right.
Good boy has become fat boy, and that’s my fault and my responsibility.
When you love your cat, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that giving in all the time is an expression of love.
Cats are pros at insistence, especially when it comes to food. When Buddy stands in front of the treat cabinet and meows mournfully, or when he gives me his sad-eyed stare as if he’s Julius Caesar — “Et tu, Big Bud?” — I’m weak and I fold. Snacks are dispensed.
Chonky cats suffer health problems, reduced mobility and ill-fitting suits. Image: PITB
Yet there’s no denying Bud is plump.
He’s got a belly, and it’s not just his pronounced primordial pouch. His cheeks are starting to fill out. When he loafs, he looks like a gray blob.
He’s also incapable of doing his old door-opening trick, which requires him to jump and momentarily hang from the handle while his feet find purchase on the frame. Shoving off on his hind legs, he would push the handle down while leaning into the door, easing it open.
He’s just too chunky, unable to balance his weight properly to pull it off nowadays.
Most importantly, a chubby Buddy is not a healthy Buddy. That’s my fault.
So it’s back to the diet, and hopefully the little guy can be motivated to move more during play time. If not, well, we’ll have to resort to drastic measures to get him moving. An angry vacuum ought to do it.
To celebrate my birthday and Bud’s adoptaversary, the little guy commissioned a portrait of us together. As many of you know, cats think of us as big, slow cats, which is reflected in the resulting painting. I present to you “Buddies: Airbrush on canvas”:
There is a slight inaccuracy, of course: I have gray eyes, not green. If I’m portrayed as a cat, I should probably be an orange tabby as well. And finally, little Buddy should be much more muscular. Perhaps he’s meant to be a kitten in this painting as he was more of a shoulder cat when he was tiny. Other than that, seems pretty accurate!
In truth we don’t really know exactly how cats view us.
We know there’s a parental element, that house cats retain kitten-like qualities for life as they remain in our care. The meow is probably the best example of that, since it mirrors the vocalizations kittens make to their mothers.
We know house cats depend on us physically, psychologically and emotionally. In recent years behavioral scientists have taken studies originally designed for children and modified them for cats, yielding interesting results: House cats who are bonded to their humans behave in ways startlingly similar to humans children.
When we form bonds with them, they draw comfort from our presence and look to us for behavioral cues to determine how they should respond to situations and objects that are new and potentially frightening. Just like kids, cats look to us, and just like kids, they stay calm if we do.
When you treat a cat well, kitty returns that love, trying to comfort you when you’re sick, refusing to leave your side, alerting you to potential trouble.
Bud is super friendly, but he isn’t the cuddliest cat out there. He doesn’t like being hugged or picked up, but he knows that when he pads up to me while purring and sits on my chest or in my lap, I’m never going to force him to stay or subject him to pets he doesn’t want. That’s why he approaches me often and why he feels so relaxed.
It’s probably also why he often wakes me up, purring like an engine, looking for a chin scratch and affirmation that he is indeed a good boy.
Perhaps the biggest complements are Bud grooming my hair and beard, and sleeping on me.
There’s no greater expression of trust between a feline and human than when a cat falls sleep in your lap. Cats are never more vulnerable than when they’re asleep, and sleeping in your lap means your four legged friend feels safe with you and trusts you completely.
As more humans force vegan cat “food” onto their felines, cats turn toward the black market for their yums.
The exchange was so swift that unless you were looking out for it, you’d miss it.
A young, skinny ginger tabby approached a pudgy tuxedo in front of a stoop. The felines exchanged a nod and bumped paws, then the tabby scurried into an alley, disappearing into the shadows between two buildings.
“Gotta get it in me!” the tabby said, taking quick breaths. He dragged a claw across the top of the pouch to open it, poured every last morsel of meat into his mouth, then dropped to the ground, leaning against the brick wall.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, his pupils dilating. “That is the good stuff! Man, I needed that.”
The tabby, who would only identify himself by his street name, Skinny G, is one of thousands of so-called “vegan cats” in New York who have been defying their humans, finding ways to slip out and connect with a burgeoning network of “can slingers.”
Resembling drug dealers in their methods and presentation, the can slingers nevertheless point out that what they’re doing is not illegal.
“We like to think of ourselves as a charitable organization even though we earn a tidy profit,” said Tuco Salamanclaw, vice president for emerging markets with Los Gatos cartel. “It’s tragic to see so many misguided humans forcing their faithful felines to eat tofu, soy and other junk that doesn’t have the nutrients we need. We’re here to help address that injustice.”
Louis “Linguini Louie” Felinzio, a Meowfia capo and director of taste testing for the Meowfia’s can slinging operation.
The rise of the underground meat market — and the profits it promises to organizations that can muscle their way in — has attracted the Meowfia as well as The Buddy Organization, which was rebranded last year as Nipped In The Bud Catnip Co. Jostling for position among those three major players, as well as smaller groups, has led to a revival of the territorial battles that marked the catnip wars years ago.
“It’s just a matter of time before we see another drive-by spraying,” said Pawl Oreoson, a criminologist at John Jay College of criminal justice in New York. “Los Gatos is not an organization that surrenders territory easily, and the Meowfia also play for keeps. There’s just too much money to be made here.”
Profits from the underground cat food market set a record for the 10th consecutive quarter in March, reflecting the growing number of humans forcing their felines to eat meat-free diets of ultra-processed, plant-based “food.”
“Disgusting,” is how three-year-old Nala put it when asked about the “vegan cat food” her humans feed her. “Imagine eating damp cardboard with little clumps of carrot and celery embedded in it. No self-respecting cat should be forced to eat this stuff.”
“After two weeks on the vegan stuff I was skin and bones,” says Slim Sal, above. “I was almost too weak to make it to the can slingers and get my paws on proper food. No cat should have to endure that trauma.”
Tigger, a striped eight-year-old from Brooklyn, was admonished by his humans two weeks into his vegan “cat food” diet when he got into the fridge and helped himself to an entire pound of Boar’s Head ham and two large chorizos.
With a child lock now preventing him from opening the refrigerator door, Tigger said he’s been squirreling away portions of the vegan kibble and dumping it off the fire escape when his people aren’t looking. He hunts rodents to keep himself from starving, but says he’s getting sick of mice.
“If these lunatics want to subsist on broccoli, quinoa and hummus, that’s on them, but I just can’t,” Tigger said. “I’ve scraped together enough cash to buy a few cans of Friskies, and tomorrow I shall feast!”
Buddy is a good boy! Buddy doesn’t scratch the screen!
“Hahaha! You humans are so funny with your overactive imaginations!
Your ears and eyes deceive you, human! I was not trying to scratch the screen door again.
I told you, those tears in the screen are from a chalupacabra! I said ‘Look here, chalupacabra, this is Buddy Territory. You’re not welcome here! Get!’
But you know those chalupacabras, they never listen. Stubborn animals!
Pictured: A vicious Chalupacabra that scratches the screen door and blames poor Buddy. Credit: PITB
My claws are NOT stuck in the screen, okay? I’m just resting my paw. I can get free any time I want, it’s just that I don’t want to right now.”
Forty-six minutes later:
“I’m right here, you know. I see you eating that ice cream sandwich. I see how it is. ‘Snacks for me, but not for thee.’ Well I have news for you, human! I’m going to sit here and stare at you all mean-like until you procure a Buddy snack.
Pain In The Bud 