My Chubs: Still Here

Josie is a neat fat cat. She tends to get lost in the news about the other felines. Bear-Bear is the new foster-cat, so he receives much attention in my blog. Tungsten’s health is a great concern to me, so she too figures prominently. Tucker is cute and playful and a roly poly baby, while Renn is active, and gives me something to write about at movie- and bath-times. Josie is inconspicuous, with no dangerous or painful health issues. She doesn’t play rambunctiously or hasten to spend time with me at any particular moment of the day. But I am very fond of her.

I place her on my lap sometimes, just to give her time with me. She initially dislikes the action, probably because she loathes being carried, but once I start petting her, her two-tone purring begins. This has become more common for her; she used to be reluctant to let me hear her purr, but now it starts as soon as she is placed on my legs. She also purrs when she comes to bed.

She is not active, even when playing. She lies on the floor expecting the toy to come to her. She snuggles close to a piece of honeysuckle when she finds it, and enjoys rolling over it, to acquire its intoxicating scent. It's like her little glass of sherry before bed.

She likes her food, my Chubs does. She will complain that I am not serving up the soft-food fast enough at dinner- and snack-times. But when it is in everyone’s dish - but the dishes are not yet on the floor - I say, “All right, here we go.” That, she knows, means the actual disbursement is complete; so why are the dishes not in their right and proper positions? That’s when she truly gives vent to her annoyance.

Josie is not a great connoisseur of soft cat foods. She will eat a variety, though there are some flavours of Wellness brand that she disdains. She also likes her hard-food, though not as much as the soft. Her veterinarian tells me that she is overweight and needs to lose some poundage. I know that is the case, but she enjoys her meals, and looks forward to little else in her easy but boring life. To watch her walk or, more so, hurry away is rather like watching a tiny, furry Holstein cow trot away, its udder moving transversely to its direction of locomotion. But with Josie, it’s not an udder. “No, that ain’t fur. Your cat’s fat…” Yes, she is.

The Great White can’t keep herself as clean as the other cats; she can’t reach the important areas. I must do that for her from time to time. She dislikes the familiarity with which I wash her nether regions, yet doesn’t put up the struggle that she used to. I think she feels better afterward; cleaner, fresher. Who wouldn’t?

I’m sure I have written about these things before. Josie doesn’t often do anything that may be the subject of a blog article by itself. She is unspectacular, not really newsworthy. But I wanted to write about my quiet little loner, to include her in the blog, to remind the world that she is here and well. She turns ten this year, wider and friendlier than ever. Just a neat fat cat whom I’m glad to have as my friend.