It’s been far too long since I wrote about my cat.

You remember this animal?

big boned

Hey there, cat lovers.

You may recall that in 2007 we adopted a kitten who quickly ballooned into an impressive cat-shaped balloon. At her pinnacle, she weighed 20 pounds. That’s more than our dog weighs. In addition to being huge, she was gross. Her fur was oily and dandruff-speckled, she couldn’t clean her butt, and when she laid on her back, which is her favorite position, her breathing was labored and wheezy. It was sad.

We put her on a diet. Many months later, she weighed exactly the same amount. Her butt was still a crime scene; her fur, un-pettable. Eventually we figured out that she was sneak-eating the dog’s food. Charlie isn’t enthusiastic about his food, but Izzy is very much a fan. (Charlie, conversely, would scrabble up the cat’s food in his chops the second we turned our back, if we put it anywhere within his reach. And then he’d hork it right back out. Up? Up and out.)

So: we continued with the diet, and we remembered to place the dog’s bowl out of reach whenever he wasn’t using it and/or we weren't around. And now, two years later…


 Where's my goddamn medal.

Izzy now weighs 14 pounds. Fourteen. She lost six pounds, also known as a small cat. Are you impressed with her? Be impressed!

IMG_5751 IMG_5752


For not only is she no longer a bowling ball—she can play! She runs and jumps after laser pointers and whatever you care to dangle within her reach. Her fur is not even mildly disgusting. You can pet her all the way down to the tail and you never want to shudder. She can clean herself. All the parts of herself. And she does, all the time. She's a big show-off about it, if you want to know the truth.

She’s not exactly what you might call petite, but she’s at a healthy weight, so we’re happy. Of course she still demands food constantly, and plots our deaths day and night so she may one day eat our flesh. But until the moment she exacts her revenge, we will pet her silky fur and feel satisfied that we did right by our insane, possibly homicidal cat.


I’m not going to eat you. I just want to gnaw on you for a bit.