One of our three cats, Moose, the BIG one, has an attitude problem.
For all of his short life, he’s been picked on for his size. He’s been called Porky, Fatty, Pork Chop, and Lard-ass. And it has made him kind of bitter. Because he is none of those things.
He’s extremely muscular; but it’s very relaxed, so his muscle is often mistaken for fat.
It doesn’t matter that he eats most of the cat food before either Sir Monty of Stinky Butt, or Gracie can get to the bowl. It doesn’t matter that when he lays on the ground his sides MELT into the floor. It doesn’t matter that when he tries to lick his nether regions to clean them, he can’t reach them, so I have to chase him around the house with a wet wipe to get the dingle berries off the butt-fur and fuzzy kitty scrotum.
All those things are merely symptoms of his muscularity.
I get it, Moosie! I feel your pain, man! I love you for what you are, no matter what.
And I understand your hurt feelings. I’ve lived with the same misunderstandings, myself. Inside of my Rubenesque frame is a LOT of muscle, most of which I carry in my bottom. I’m the strongest sitter there is. But does John Q. Public get that?! Heck no! So I’m with you, my friend!
And I understand why you can seem mean sometimes.
Especially when people laugh at your, er, extreme buffness.
Like our favorite veterinarian, Dr. Schoepp at Peachtree Animal Hospital, for instance.
I love you, Man. Don’t let the skinny people in this world drag you down, you big beautiful, rotund ball of dingle-berry-laden fur!