Cat is fat.
I was trying to think of a wittier lead-in, but when it comes to announcing, on the internet, that your pet is overweight, there really is no point in adding flair.
It is what it is.
How do I know Cat is fat? Well, for starters, when he leaps off his favorite napping spot atop my Ikea wardrobe (which, by the way, has peanut-sized handles that make me feel like I’m opening the front door of a dollhouse), he lands on Wife’s vanity with so much force that it sounds like our bedroom is under heavy cannon fire. You can almost hear his massive frame whistling through the air, like a cartoon anvil.
And when he walks across our glass coffee table, I swear I see little cracks spidering out from his splayed kitty clompers, like Jackie Gleason ice skating in late March.
Another tip-off is the fact that Cat no longer gnaws at my ankles in the middle of the night. Apparently gorging on kibble twenty hours a day is enough to sate his previously unquenchable thirst for my blood.
Frankly, I’m concerned. Does anyone know of a good in-home Pet Exercise DVD I could commandeer? And if that sort of thing doesn’t exist, does anyone want to make one with me?
We could be billionaires.