growlhisscrunch

My family had a very pretty, very large, very fluffy, very calico cat.

She answered only to “Kitty.”

She was a very large Kitty.

The heaviest I recall her being was seventeen pounds, but it is possible she got heavier than that.

Kitty got wet food twice a day, and her dry food bowl was left out and kept full at all times.

I don’t believe Kitty had ever known hunger.

I think Kitty primarily had times when she felt like enjoying food, and times when she was asleep.

There was a time when Kitty had a problem with her mouth, and for (a very brief time) did not want to eat (much) because of it.

We eventually realized that Kitty’s lower lip was puffy; she had injured it somehow. The best guess was she had eaten a bug (Kitty was a murderer, and would kill, and sometimes eat, anything she could, bugs included) which had stung her as a last “fuck you” before it shuffled off this mortal coil and down her gullet.

Having had her constant belly-filling disrupted however briefly by mouth pain, Kitty returned to her bowl of dry food.

RRRooowwwHisssscrunchcrunchcrunch
GRRRRRRRRRRsssssssssssssss
crunch
crunchcrunch.

Kitty would not be deterred from preventing her probable first-ever faint beginnings of hunger pains from developing into actual hunger, and chewing dry kibble (she had, of course, kept up with her wet food, which she got in quantities large enough to keep a cat alive without supplemental feeding, but for Kitty, this was simply an unacceptable level of austerity) was clearly painful with her puffy lip. Kitty loved food. Kitty hated pain. Kitty was angry that her food caused her pain, and she expressed her anger at every bite…but she did not stop eating until she was back to her familiar, comfortable level of overfullness.

GRRRRrrrrrrRRRROOOWWWW
hissssssss
crunchcrunchcrunch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© Lisa Hurley
lisamariehurley.com