Cruel to be kind?

Okay. I feel like a monster.
The Phantom , alias Trotsky, alias The Sleeping Policeman, was a local stray
who decided he would risk life and limb and the terrors of the unknown by
sneaking into the house to devour our cat's food.

The Phantom was a sleek, rumbustuous tom cat, grey of fur and pointed of
tail but with the bone structure of a hairy mastadon.
The Phantom, bless him, would fly in terror if a leaf fell in a garden two
houses away. It took a long time for him to accept that we, the humans and
resident DaftCat, would tolerate him swaggering through our domain as if he
owned the place. He was, very clean, and left no tell-tale smells that I
could detect.

So trust grew. And what was the first thing I did as soon as he let me pick
him up? Stuff him in a cat carrier and haul him off to have his.. To be
detabulated by the vet. Wow! It costs HOW MUCH? !

Oh my. Now he swaggers not, and is no longer rumbustuous and he isn;t very
sleek, either. Rotund, is putting it kindly.
I am feeding him measured amounts of dry cat food of which he has a liking
that verges on the pathological. He does not eat it; he hoovers it up.
You know those ships that chug up and down rivers dredging out the mud?
THAT is the way he eats.

And now we can't even think about the kitchen without the wretched and
unhappy animal, throwing himself on our feet, writhing in a disgraceful
manner, and yowling fit to bust.
I feel a heel. DaftCat feeds on top of the freezer (it is a very small
freezer), eats what he needs and walks away. I am used to sensible cats.
The Phantom, devours what he is given then stares in amazed horror as we
leave the kitchen without piling three days worth of food in his bowl.
Trouble is both husband and I are at home and the animal was an expert at
convincing either of us that the other hadn;t fed him for days - weeks,
even.
Even now wretched husband, is prone to saying 'ahh, but he's hungry...' I
keep the dried cat food in my bedroom, for crying out loud. How many people
have to HIDE the cat food?

Has anybody had to go through this? At what point does cutting back on his
food (to normal) become 'torturing the poor defenceless likkle puddy tat.'

I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.

vee.

"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
Okay. I feel like a monster.
The Phantom , alias Trotsky, alias The Sleeping Policeman, was a local
stray
who decided he would risk life and limb and the terrors of the unknown by
sneaking into the house to devour our cat's food.

The Phantom was a sleek, rumbustuous tom cat, grey of fur and pointed of
tail but with the bone structure of a hairy mastadon.
The Phantom, bless him, would fly in terror if a leaf fell in a garden two
houses away. It took a long time for him to accept that we, the humans and
resident DaftCat, would tolerate him swaggering through our domain as if
he
owned the place. He was, very clean, and left no tell-tale smells that I
could detect.

So trust grew. And what was the first thing I did as soon as he let me
pick
him up? Stuff him in a cat carrier and haul him off to have his.. To be
detabulated by the vet. Wow! It costs HOW MUCH? !

Oh my. Now he swaggers not, and is no longer rumbustuous and he isn;t very
sleek, either. Rotund, is putting it kindly.
I am feeding him measured amounts of dry cat food of which he has a liking
that verges on the pathological. He does not eat it; he hoovers it up.
You know those ships that chug up and down rivers dredging out the mud?
THAT is the way he eats.

And now we can't even think about the kitchen without the wretched and
unhappy animal, throwing himself on our feet, writhing in a disgraceful
manner, and yowling fit to bust.
I feel a heel. DaftCat feeds on top of the freezer (it is a very small
freezer), eats what he needs and walks away. I am used to sensible cats.
The Phantom, devours what he is given then stares in amazed horror as we
leave the kitchen without piling three days worth of food in his bowl.
Trouble is both husband and I are at home and the animal was an expert at
convincing either of us that the other hadn;t fed him for days - weeks,
even.
Even now wretched husband, is prone to saying 'ahh, but he's hungry...' I
keep the dried cat food in my bedroom, for crying out loud. How many
people
have to HIDE the cat food?

Has anybody had to go through this? At what point does cutting back on his
food (to normal) become 'torturing the poor defenceless likkle puddy tat.'

I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.

vee.


We adopted Isabelle last September. Until just recently you couldn't enter
the kitchen without her trailing along just certain that she was going to
get fed ..... again. We had to feed Boots (the kitten) in a box with a hole
to small for her to fit through and guard Tigger's food like it was the gold
deposit in Fort Knox. We recently changed Isabelle over to the lite
hair-ball food. She hates it. She has stopped inhaling it and only shows
interest in the kitchen at the appointed meal times. Has she lost any
weight? - no. At least she's not acting like food is her life any more. Only
took 9 months.

W

"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
Okay. I feel like a monster.
The Phantom , alias Trotsky, alias The Sleeping Policeman, was a local
stray
who decided he would risk life and limb and the terrors of the unknown by
sneaking into the house to devour our cat's food.

The Phantom was a sleek, rumbustuous tom cat, grey of fur and pointed of
tail but with the bone structure of a hairy mastadon.
The Phantom, bless him, would fly in terror if a leaf fell in a garden two
houses away. It took a long time for him to accept that we, the humans and
resident DaftCat, would tolerate him swaggering through our domain as if
he
owned the place. He was, very clean, and left no tell-tale smells that I
could detect.

So trust grew. And what was the first thing I did as soon as he let me
pick
him up? Stuff him in a cat carrier and haul him off to have his.. To be
detabulated by the vet. Wow! It costs HOW MUCH? !

Oh my. Now he swaggers not, and is no longer rumbustuous and he isn;t very
sleek, either. Rotund, is putting it kindly.
I am feeding him measured amounts of dry cat food of which he has a liking
that verges on the pathological. He does not eat it; he hoovers it up.
You know those ships that chug up and down rivers dredging out the mud?
THAT is the way he eats.

And now we can't even think about the kitchen without the wretched and
unhappy animal, throwing himself on our feet, writhing in a disgraceful
manner, and yowling fit to bust.
I feel a heel. DaftCat feeds on top of the freezer (it is a very small
freezer), eats what he needs and walks away. I am used to sensible cats.
The Phantom, devours what he is given then stares in amazed horror as we
leave the kitchen without piling three days worth of food in his bowl.
Trouble is both husband and I are at home and the animal was an expert at
convincing either of us that the other hadn;t fed him for days - weeks,
even.
Even now wretched husband, is prone to saying 'ahh, but he's hungry...' I
keep the dried cat food in my bedroom, for crying out loud. How many
people
have to HIDE the cat food?

Has anybody had to go through this? At what point does cutting back on his
food (to normal) become 'torturing the poor defenceless likkle puddy tat.'

I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.

vee.


We adopted Isabelle last September. Until just recently you couldn't enter
the kitchen without her trailing along just certain that she was going to
get fed ..... again. We had to feed Boots (the kitten) in a box with a hole
to small for her to fit through and guard Tigger's food like it was the gold
deposit in Fort Knox. We recently changed Isabelle over to the lite
hair-ball food. She hates it. She has stopped inhaling it and only shows
interest in the kitchen at the appointed meal times. Has she lost any
weight? - no. At least she's not acting like food is her life any more. Only
took 9 months.

W

"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
Okay. I feel like a monster.
The Phantom , alias Trotsky, alias The Sleeping Policeman, was a local
stray
who decided he would risk life and limb and the terrors of the unknown by
sneaking into the house to devour our cat's food.

The Phantom was a sleek, rumbustuous tom cat, grey of fur and pointed of
tail but with the bone structure of a hairy mastadon.
The Phantom, bless him, would fly in terror if a leaf fell in a garden two
houses away. It took a long time for him to accept that we, the humans and
resident DaftCat, would tolerate him swaggering through our domain as if
he
owned the place. He was, very clean, and left no tell-tale smells that I
could detect.

So trust grew. And what was the first thing I did as soon as he let me
pick
him up? Stuff him in a cat carrier and haul him off to have his.. To be
detabulated by the vet. Wow! It costs HOW MUCH? !

Oh my. Now he swaggers not, and is no longer rumbustuous and he isn;t very
sleek, either. Rotund, is putting it kindly.
I am feeding him measured amounts of dry cat food of which he has a liking
that verges on the pathological. He does not eat it; he hoovers it up.
You know those ships that chug up and down rivers dredging out the mud?
THAT is the way he eats.

And now we can't even think about the kitchen without the wretched and
unhappy animal, throwing himself on our feet, writhing in a disgraceful
manner, and yowling fit to bust.
I feel a heel. DaftCat feeds on top of the freezer (it is a very small
freezer), eats what he needs and walks away. I am used to sensible cats.
The Phantom, devours what he is given then stares in amazed horror as we
leave the kitchen without piling three days worth of food in his bowl.
Trouble is both husband and I are at home and the animal was an expert at
convincing either of us that the other hadn;t fed him for days - weeks,
even.
Even now wretched husband, is prone to saying 'ahh, but he's hungry...' I
keep the dried cat food in my bedroom, for crying out loud. How many
people
have to HIDE the cat food?

Has anybody had to go through this? At what point does cutting back on his
food (to normal) become 'torturing the poor defenceless likkle puddy tat.'

I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.

vee.


We adopted Isabelle last September. Until just recently you couldn't enter
the kitchen without her trailing along just certain that she was going to
get fed ..... again. We had to feed Boots (the kitten) in a box with a hole
to small for her to fit through and guard Tigger's food like it was the gold
deposit in Fort Knox. We recently changed Isabelle over to the lite
hair-ball food. She hates it. She has stopped inhaling it and only shows
interest in the kitchen at the appointed meal times. Has she lost any
weight? - no. At least she's not acting like food is her life any more. Only
took 9 months.

W

"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.



1. I really like your writing style!
2. I am having success in feeding my fat cat
wet food. She is happier, loves it, and is losing
weight. I still give her a little bit of dry in between her morning and
evening feedings of wet--she gets half a small can at each feeding. By small
I mean the Fancy Feast size.

"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.



1. I really like your writing style!
2. I am having success in feeding my fat cat
wet food. She is happier, loves it, and is losing
weight. I still give her a little bit of dry in between her morning and
evening feedings of wet--she gets half a small can at each feeding. By small
I mean the Fancy Feast size.

"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.



1. I really like your writing style!
2. I am having success in feeding my fat cat
wet food. She is happier, loves it, and is losing
weight. I still give her a little bit of dry in between her morning and
evening feedings of wet--she gets half a small can at each feeding. By small
I mean the Fancy Feast size.

On Tue, 22 Jun 2004 19:58:11 -0400, "Wendy"
wrote:


"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
Okay. I feel like a monster.
The Phantom , alias Trotsky, alias The Sleeping Policeman, was a local
stray
who decided he would risk life and limb and the terrors of the unknown by
sneaking into the house to devour our cat's food.

The Phantom was a sleek, rumbustuous tom cat, grey of fur and pointed of
tail but with the bone structure of a hairy mastadon.
The Phantom, bless him, would fly in terror if a leaf fell in a garden two
houses away. It took a long time for him to accept that we, the humans and
resident DaftCat, would tolerate him swaggering through our domain as if
he
owned the place. He was, very clean, and left no tell-tale smells that I
could detect.

So trust grew. And what was the first thing I did as soon as he let me
pick
him up? Stuff him in a cat carrier and haul him off to have his.. To be
detabulated by the vet. Wow! It costs HOW MUCH? !

Oh my. Now he swaggers not, and is no longer rumbustuous and he isn;t very
sleek, either. Rotund, is putting it kindly.
I am feeding him measured amounts of dry cat food of which he has a liking
that verges on the pathological. He does not eat it; he hoovers it up.
You know those ships that chug up and down rivers dredging out the mud?
THAT is the way he eats.

And now we can't even think about the kitchen without the wretched and
unhappy animal, throwing himself on our feet, writhing in a disgraceful
manner, and yowling fit to bust.
I feel a heel. DaftCat feeds on top of the freezer (it is a very small
freezer), eats what he needs and walks away. I am used to sensible cats.
The Phantom, devours what he is given then stares in amazed horror as we
leave the kitchen without piling three days worth of food in his bowl.
Trouble is both husband and I are at home and the animal was an expert at
convincing either of us that the other hadn;t fed him for days - weeks,
even.
Even now wretched husband, is prone to saying 'ahh, but he's hungry...' I
keep the dried cat food in my bedroom, for crying out loud. How many
people
have to HIDE the cat food?

Has anybody had to go through this? At what point does cutting back on his
food (to normal) become 'torturing the poor defenceless likkle puddy tat.'

I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.

vee.


We adopted Isabelle last September. Until just recently you couldn't enter
the kitchen without her trailing along just certain that she was going to
get fed ..... again. We had to feed Boots (the kitten) in a box with a hole
to small for her to fit through and guard Tigger's food like it was the gold
deposit in Fort Knox. We recently changed Isabelle over to the lite
hair-ball food. She hates it. She has stopped inhaling it and only shows
interest in the kitchen at the appointed meal times. Has she lost any
weight? - no. At least she's not acting like food is her life any more. Only
took 9 months.

W

It has taken TuTu 6 &1/2 years and she still can't stand to see an
empty food dish. Even though she doesn't always eat it, she wants
food in it. MLB

On Tue, 22 Jun 2004 19:58:11 -0400, "Wendy"
wrote:


"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
Okay. I feel like a monster.
The Phantom , alias Trotsky, alias The Sleeping Policeman, was a local
stray
who decided he would risk life and limb and the terrors of the unknown by
sneaking into the house to devour our cat's food.

The Phantom was a sleek, rumbustuous tom cat, grey of fur and pointed of
tail but with the bone structure of a hairy mastadon.
The Phantom, bless him, would fly in terror if a leaf fell in a garden two
houses away. It took a long time for him to accept that we, the humans and
resident DaftCat, would tolerate him swaggering through our domain as if
he
owned the place. He was, very clean, and left no tell-tale smells that I
could detect.

So trust grew. And what was the first thing I did as soon as he let me
pick
him up? Stuff him in a cat carrier and haul him off to have his.. To be
detabulated by the vet. Wow! It costs HOW MUCH? !

Oh my. Now he swaggers not, and is no longer rumbustuous and he isn;t very
sleek, either. Rotund, is putting it kindly.
I am feeding him measured amounts of dry cat food of which he has a liking
that verges on the pathological. He does not eat it; he hoovers it up.
You know those ships that chug up and down rivers dredging out the mud?
THAT is the way he eats.

And now we can't even think about the kitchen without the wretched and
unhappy animal, throwing himself on our feet, writhing in a disgraceful
manner, and yowling fit to bust.
I feel a heel. DaftCat feeds on top of the freezer (it is a very small
freezer), eats what he needs and walks away. I am used to sensible cats.
The Phantom, devours what he is given then stares in amazed horror as we
leave the kitchen without piling three days worth of food in his bowl.
Trouble is both husband and I are at home and the animal was an expert at
convincing either of us that the other hadn;t fed him for days - weeks,
even.
Even now wretched husband, is prone to saying 'ahh, but he's hungry...' I
keep the dried cat food in my bedroom, for crying out loud. How many
people
have to HIDE the cat food?

Has anybody had to go through this? At what point does cutting back on his
food (to normal) become 'torturing the poor defenceless likkle puddy tat.'

I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.

vee.


We adopted Isabelle last September. Until just recently you couldn't enter
the kitchen without her trailing along just certain that she was going to
get fed ..... again. We had to feed Boots (the kitten) in a box with a hole
to small for her to fit through and guard Tigger's food like it was the gold
deposit in Fort Knox. We recently changed Isabelle over to the lite
hair-ball food. She hates it. She has stopped inhaling it and only shows
interest in the kitchen at the appointed meal times. Has she lost any
weight? - no. At least she's not acting like food is her life any more. Only
took 9 months.

W

It has taken TuTu 6 &1/2 years and she still can't stand to see an
empty food dish. Even though she doesn't always eat it, she wants
food in it. MLB

On Tue, 22 Jun 2004 19:58:11 -0400, "Wendy"
wrote:


"Vee" marrowjam@[totally wild}blueyonder.co.uk wrote in message
...
Okay. I feel like a monster.
The Phantom , alias Trotsky, alias The Sleeping Policeman, was a local
stray
who decided he would risk life and limb and the terrors of the unknown by
sneaking into the house to devour our cat's food.

The Phantom was a sleek, rumbustuous tom cat, grey of fur and pointed of
tail but with the bone structure of a hairy mastadon.
The Phantom, bless him, would fly in terror if a leaf fell in a garden two
houses away. It took a long time for him to accept that we, the humans and
resident DaftCat, would tolerate him swaggering through our domain as if
he
owned the place. He was, very clean, and left no tell-tale smells that I
could detect.

So trust grew. And what was the first thing I did as soon as he let me
pick
him up? Stuff him in a cat carrier and haul him off to have his.. To be
detabulated by the vet. Wow! It costs HOW MUCH? !

Oh my. Now he swaggers not, and is no longer rumbustuous and he isn;t very
sleek, either. Rotund, is putting it kindly.
I am feeding him measured amounts of dry cat food of which he has a liking
that verges on the pathological. He does not eat it; he hoovers it up.
You know those ships that chug up and down rivers dredging out the mud?
THAT is the way he eats.

And now we can't even think about the kitchen without the wretched and
unhappy animal, throwing himself on our feet, writhing in a disgraceful
manner, and yowling fit to bust.
I feel a heel. DaftCat feeds on top of the freezer (it is a very small
freezer), eats what he needs and walks away. I am used to sensible cats.
The Phantom, devours what he is given then stares in amazed horror as we
leave the kitchen without piling three days worth of food in his bowl.
Trouble is both husband and I are at home and the animal was an expert at
convincing either of us that the other hadn;t fed him for days - weeks,
even.
Even now wretched husband, is prone to saying 'ahh, but he's hungry...' I
keep the dried cat food in my bedroom, for crying out loud. How many
people
have to HIDE the cat food?

Has anybody had to go through this? At what point does cutting back on his
food (to normal) become 'torturing the poor defenceless likkle puddy tat.'

I am distraught - but not half as distraught as that damn cat.

vee.


We adopted Isabelle last September. Until just recently you couldn't enter
the kitchen without her trailing along just certain that she was going to
get fed ..... again. We had to feed Boots (the kitten) in a box with a hole
to small for her to fit through and guard Tigger's food like it was the gold
deposit in Fort Knox. We recently changed Isabelle over to the lite
hair-ball food. She hates it. She has stopped inhaling it and only shows
interest in the kitchen at the appointed meal times. Has she lost any
weight? - no. At least she's not acting like food is her life any more. Only
took 9 months.

W

It has taken TuTu 6 &1/2 years and she still can't stand to see an
empty food dish. Even though she doesn't always eat it, she wants
food in it. MLB