Sammi's losing weight again. It happens every summer when he goes on the Catkins Diet. He goes out all night on the hunt, eats disgusting rodents from the wild, then crashes in the first available soft spot to sleep away the day. My people have noticed, too, and it doesn't make me happy. The jokes about Sammi's weight--"Put on your back brace, Ryan, before you pick him up", "Did you hear the thunder last night? Oh, maybe that was Sammi jumping down from the counter"--are not so common, and he's actually getting a lot of that "positive" attention. Not good for a cat, in my opinion. Let the dogs lap up that crap.
Not that I'm opposed to sleeping in the day, mind you (See previous post on sunbeams). But he IS showing off, and getting lots of attention for it with this weight-loss gig. I can hunt as well as the next wildcat (excluding Winston, of course, who only hunts his own tail), but I'm a strict Kibbletarian when it comes to intake. I mean, really: Does Sammi have any idea where those chipmunks have been?
What he doesn't appear to understand is the value of a mouse as a toy. He needs to be brought up to speed on our catch-and-release program, which allows all of us the pleasure of participation. When I watch him through the glass door, tearing the head brutally off his latest prize, I can only think what a shame it is to waste such a potentially amusing little jester. A potgut is far more useful as entertainment than as a meal. They're just so messy when you eat them.
But Sammi is clearly playing his own game, and doesn't appear to be invested in the maintenance of the kitty culture I've established here at Tranquility House. I'll have to just wake him up speak to him.