Hi. I’m Petie. I’m the blonde guy on the right. Welcome to my place. That little guy next to me is Larry. You might notice that we look a lot alike. I mean, after all, we’ve been brothers almost all our life, since he was about 2 years old and I was a teeny tiny 2 pound kitten. We’ve been snuggled and loved and cuddled and fed the same tasty dry grub all our lives. It’s always there, in the morning, in the evening, in the afternoon, and especially during the wee hours. I love the stuff. Crunchy. Fishy. Heaven.
So my mom is a veterinarian. She’s always poking and prodding and holding me in funny positions and lifting my lips to look at my teeth for some reason. She’s really nice to me, but weird. She recently got this weird idea to stop leaving my crunchy fishy heaven out all the time. No warning. Maybe she actually forgot. One day the stuff was just falling down to the bowl from the big clear tank above the bowl and after Larry and I ate a bunch of it, the bowl went empty! And my mom didn’t refill it! Larry and I must’ve run up and down and up and down and up and down the steps to where Mom usually hangs out, meowing and exclaiming the emergency that was the Empty Bowl!
Finally, she came down and visited us, speaking sweet nothings but still not filling the bowl! For some reason, she picked me up and stood on this flat platform on the floor, said some sort of number to herself, then put me down. Then she stood alone on the platform, muttered to herself, then proclaimed, “Fourteen pounds! Petie, you are fourteen pounds!” Okay. Fill the bowl Mom. I run back over to the empty bowl. Larry trots around too, yelling and screaming.
Let me tell you a little about Larry. He’s named for Larry Bird, the famous basketball player (according to our Dad). If you ask our weird mom, he’s named his name because as a kitten he sounded and looked more like a bird than a cat. I can still see the resemblance, actually. Well, Larry is one of those guys who can eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and never change shape. He lives for food (don’t we all?) and it keeps him zooming around like a little scrapper even at 13 ½ years old. How does he keep so slim? Well, it probably helps that he ralphs up half of his meals. Mom likes to call him “Pukey Kitty” for some reason, and I think that nickname is related to his favorite pastime. I personally can’t bring myself to do it, but he seems happy.
Anyway, we keep carrying on and finally Mom follows us to our food and water bowls. She pats us each on our heads, refills the water, scoops our litter pans, then drops a handful of the fishy stuff into our bowls. This is new: usually the food just oozes out of the bottom of the big tall clear thing, and we can nibble from it whenever we want. Today, after we finished, no more oozed out! Again! Oh dear….this can’t be good. Hopefully tomorrow is better.