Purrfectly Content
This is the last guest blog post we have from Trudi Evans for the time being. If you have missed any of the great posts she honored us with, please check out the archived post section to catch up. We have truly enjoyed the entries Trudi has shared with us, and we look forward to bringing you more posts from her in the near future.
Trudi Evans is the publisher of As We Are Magazine(http://www.aswearemagazine.com) new space on the web for women to feel good, speak out and be heard. When she’s not promoting the magazine, Trudi acts as the president of the board of directors for the Eating Disorders Action Group (http://www.edag.ca), plays in the sprinkler with her 4 ½ year old son, hangs out with her husband of ten years, and chases the cat back into the house. She is currently growing pumpkins in containers on her deck and thinking about female super heroes.
Several years ago, we had this very large cat. When we adopted him, he was somewhere in the 20lb range, and a very lonely dude. He happily threw all 20lbs into any lap available at any time and would reward every kind touch with a deep rumbling purr.
He was with us for five years and in that time, we tried to help him shed more pounds than fur and become the svelte feline we knew he could be. After consulting the vet, we changed his food. We made sure he got the healthiest of treats. And then we tried exercise.
Exercising a cat might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever tried. I came home from the pet store one day, armed with a variety of toys to tempt his inner kitty into playing and running around. I carefully examined my purchases and found a shiny, crinkly, feathery thing on a stick that seemed like it would tempt any cat into being frisky.
I parked myself on the living room floor and crinkled the end of the new toy to catch the cat’s attention. He perked up, waddled over and had a look. I was on a roll. Using the plastic rod attached to it, I dragged the toy along the floor, and as it would get near the cat, he took a swat at it. He’s hooked, I thought.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. One swipe, and he flopped over, content to lay on the floor and watch as I made a fool out of myself, imitating how a cat, such as he, should use these great toys I had bought for him. I tried the squeaky mouse, the feathers-on-a-spring, and every last toy from that bag. He watched. Once, he stretched. And that was his entire exercise regimen.
If only he’d been as motivated as my friend Kate’s cat:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZpWL21hAh4
Trudi Evans is the publisher of As We Are Magazine(http://www.aswearemagazine.com) new space on the web for women to feel good, speak out and be heard. When she’s not promoting the magazine, Trudi acts as the president of the board of directors for the Eating Disorders Action Group (http://www.edag.ca), plays in the sprinkler with her 4 ½ year old son, hangs out with her husband of ten years, and chases the cat back into the house. She is currently growing pumpkins in containers on her deck and thinking about female super heroes.
Several years ago, we had this very large cat. When we adopted him, he was somewhere in the 20lb range, and a very lonely dude. He happily threw all 20lbs into any lap available at any time and would reward every kind touch with a deep rumbling purr.
He was with us for five years and in that time, we tried to help him shed more pounds than fur and become the svelte feline we knew he could be. After consulting the vet, we changed his food. We made sure he got the healthiest of treats. And then we tried exercise.
Exercising a cat might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever tried. I came home from the pet store one day, armed with a variety of toys to tempt his inner kitty into playing and running around. I carefully examined my purchases and found a shiny, crinkly, feathery thing on a stick that seemed like it would tempt any cat into being frisky.
I parked myself on the living room floor and crinkled the end of the new toy to catch the cat’s attention. He perked up, waddled over and had a look. I was on a roll. Using the plastic rod attached to it, I dragged the toy along the floor, and as it would get near the cat, he took a swat at it. He’s hooked, I thought.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. One swipe, and he flopped over, content to lay on the floor and watch as I made a fool out of myself, imitating how a cat, such as he, should use these great toys I had bought for him. I tried the squeaky mouse, the feathers-on-a-spring, and every last toy from that bag. He watched. Once, he stretched. And that was his entire exercise regimen.
If only he’d been as motivated as my friend Kate’s cat:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZpWL21hAh4
posted by Jess at 11:47 AM
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