So, Mondale's on Isis's diet. It's a fine diet and it involves providing Mondale with enough food for a dieting twenty-five pound cat. Which is almost certainly enough for a skinny ten pound cat.
Mondale's food goes up on a chair. It's an odd chair that I don't even want to admit how long I've dragged around with me. I aquired it back in the Pokemon House. Back then it had two friends, but they weren't up to the beating Em and I (and our myriad of guests and roommates) inflicted on the furniture. Only one made it to Arizona and I think it only made it because my mom packed up my stuff and I didn't.
ANYWAY, the chair has a "wooden" (I think it's prolly particle board) seat that has slats and is much too small and awkwardly placed and slidy for Isis to successfully eat food that isn't even different from his own food off of. For now.
Once Isis manages to figure out how to haul himself onto the chair in search of food, I've just decided we'll find a way to rid ourselves of the chair because I have too damned much furniture.
There are two dining room table chairs in the kitchen being very annoying and another chair in the hallway, being only slightly less annoying, and *another* damned chair that I just remembered that's disassembled all over our bedroom. I can part with one damned mismatched chair. Maybe two. Not the armchair. Or the patio chairs. But two of the other three can go. I don't throw parties anymore. We have enough seating.
(That noise you just heard was Drew fainting at the very suggestion that I might part with some bit of our furniture, especially without considering replacing it. It doesn't need to be replaced.)
(I fully expect to come home tomorrow and find this entry printed out and taped to the chair in question with "YOU PROMISED IN WRITING" scrawled on it. In my day dream, Drew has taken an entire day off work to try to convince Isis in only the most respectful way possible that jumping onto the chair on command is necessary. The chair is covered in cat treats in this scenario. Also, Mondale is chewing on the paper and Drew is trying to respectfully explain to Mondale why that isn't what he is supposed to be doing. It's hilarious in my head.)
Anyway, Drew, we can talk about what elements of seating I am willing to part with. I don't need to bore the internet about this. I mean to bore you with the cats' eating habits.
Okay, so, Mondale on the chair; Isis on the floor; keeps the cats from spending five minutes sniffing at what each other has before Mondale tastes both, I lose interest and walk away, and then Mondale has to follow me and this leaves Isis to gorge himself on Ocean Fish Dinner in Sauce.
The problem here is that Mondale doesn't seem to understand that the Ocean Fish Dinner in Sauce has a very limited edible period once placed onto the plate. He eats three bites and then he's like "I'm dainty and small! In this house the ten pound cat is too small! I am very narrow anyway!" and loses interest in the food.
He's been free-fed dry food for as long as this apartment has been his whole world. I tried putting the wet food where the dry food used to be, but that's near the window and it's always sunny and you can almost see the stuff drying out as it leaves the can.
My Solution: wait it out. Let the stupid cat whine about being hungry for an evening and see if maybe he isn't hungry enough to eat a whole breakfast in the morning.
I am being undermined by a very nice boy who cannot stand to hear an unhappy, annoying, whining cat. He keeps helping Mondale get access to the ever dwindling amounts of dry food left in the apartment. Which then leaves Isis access to it. Which leaves us back at "the cat needs to lose ten pounds, which is 40% of his current body weight. Tough love regarding food for all cats until further notice."
Drew buys the cat food around here. Who wants to guess how long he'll hold out once the dry food is gone before he comes home with another bag?
