Samantha used to be severely overweight. I think she weighed between 17 and 20 lbs at one point a couple of years ago. Her a-hole was very well protected by slabs of ass cheek flesh that prevented her from cleaning herself and therefore I held that responsibility. I put her on diet food for a few months and I'm not sure if that did the trick or if old age just caught up with her, but I swear I don't think she weighs 7 lbs now. And I've started giving her a spoon or two of canned food every afternoon to see if I can actually get some weight back on her.
She's already in the groove. Every afternoon, at some point, depending on the temperature in the house, she starts screeching for this stuff.
She stirs up the other cats with that horrendous noise she makes and soon everyone is standing around in the kitchen waiting on me to service them. Samantha will actually try and lead me over to the cabinet where I store the stuff, as if I need to be shown where it is. Hell, I'm the one who put it there, so I sure as hell know where it is.
At some point I give in to the voice of reason and open a can. This is the result:
Next week I might just film a short video clip of her antics for the Friday Pussy Blog.
From left to right: Samantha, Sissy, Tater Tot. The outside boys get some too. Sweet Pea will hear me pulling the top off the can and then stare in the window. It's quite a spectacle.
OK, I'm done with the pussy blog. Back to the business of the evening:
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