A Tale of Two Kitties

In my house lives a cat named Silas. Silas is an orange tabby and almost as big as my house. He just turned two, so it's time to take him for his physical and see if he's overweight, which I'm pretty sure he is. 

Left: Kitt looking down on Silas before the tables turned. Top 

right: Silas trying to fit his rear in a space too kitties 

too small. Bottom right: Kitt's fanny fitting nicely even though

she's supposedly overweight. Image copyright, Teece Aronin.

The reason I'm not totally sure, is that his head has been mistaken for a basketball by people catching it in their peripheral vision, and if his head is that big, maybe the rest of him should be big, too. 

Then again, there's the article I just read saying cats should have an "hourglass" shape when you look down at them. Silas has an armadillo shape, so that lands me back at square one, thinking he must be overweight.

My kids and I have another cat, too, a gray tabby named Kitt. The vet recently told us Kitt's overweight, but because she looks like a grape in comparison with Silas' watermelon, we weren't aware of it. We have since put both cats on a feeding schedule instead of letting them graze and bought them food puzzles so that they'll burn more calories than they do by whining, which is the only effort they had previously put out in order to eat.

There are some interesting differences between the two cats because of their size difference. When Kitt "knocks" at my bedroom door, it's a dainty little tap-tap. When Silas knocks, bolts rattle, knobs come loose, and door jambs splinter.

When Kitt jumps onto the cat tree, she's like an agile dancer doing a stag leap. When Silas jumps onto the cat tree, he's like an aging athlete trying to do what he used to do and can't quite do anymore. Or better yet, like King Kong taking a running leap at the Empire State Building. 

When Kitt jumps to the floor, she makes a girlish little oop sound. And when Silas jumps to the floor, he makes a sound frighteningly similar to the human, "ugh!" When Kitt jumps to the floor, you hear a tiny thump, but when Silas jumps to the floor, it sounds like a drunk at a wedding falling on the dance floor.  

Both cats enjoy lying on my bed. Kitt takes up a fraction of the space Silas does, and Silas always seems in danger of falling off both sides of the bed at once. 

As long as they're healthy, I don't care how fat they are, because I love them just the way they are.

Come to think of it, that's what I'd want people to say about me - just not when I can hear them.  

I'm Menopausal, and This is My Friend, Obese

I like WebMD - usually. I write a health and wellness newsletter, and its upbeat, prevention-focused newsletters perk me up when I hit my morning email, even though they arrive by the bedpan-full. 

Menopausal and Obese, copyright, Teece Aronin. 

The articles are informative and life-affirming, like how to get fit playing with your dog; how to compare Paleo, Mediterranean, and DASH; how to cook with spices; how eating your main course off a salad plate makes you feel full faster. 

WebMD also addresses mental health topics with a balance of optimism and realism, and its photographs are vivid, colorful and otherwise eye-catching. 

But WebMD lost its Wellness Motivator of the Year Award when I came across this recent headline in its newsletter:

Exercises that Address Menopausal Weight Gain: About 30% of Women Ages 50-59 Are Obese. Learn How to Keep from Joining Them . . .

Really now. 

I've already established that I'm an avid WebMD reader. What I haven't mentioned is that I fit the demographic of "women ages 50-59," am menopausal, and, while I strive for a sort of va-va-voom quality, I am obese - at least temporarily. 

And true to the demographics, at least 30% of my gal-pals are too. Shouldn't WebMD presume that women like me are readers of its newsletter? I'm thinking it would have been better, dare I say nicer, to say something like this:

Exercises that Control Menopausal Weight Gain

And then just shut up. 

The WebMD  newsletter could have dropped a few pounds just by cutting that subtitle and that would have set a good example for what it seems to consider the 50-plus fatties. 

While its prevention-oriented articles are great in a lot of cases, WebMD is not Prevention magazine; Prevention magazine is Prevention magazine and can get away with that kind of article with a lot more justification, based on the name of the publication. Still, the subtitle is atrocious, and I would hope Prevention would have come up with something else, just as I think WebMD would have - ordinarily. 

Maybe if I write a letter to WebMD, they'll be impressed enough by my keen editorial eye to hire me. Then their articles would kick off more like this:

About 30% of Women Ages 50-59 Meet the American Medical Association's Criteria for Obesity. If this Sounds Like You, and You'd Like to Drop Some Weight, Here Are Exercises that Can Help . . .

WebMD . . . shape up!

Besmirch Research

According to an article I found online (where everything you read is true) up to 68% of kids may be more likely to exercise when their friends do.

Image source: stockadobe.com

This conclusion was based on research conducted by experts who may be more likely to conduct studies of things that may be more likely to be common sense. Or it might have been the fault of the article's writer. But why anyone would deem it necessary to couch these findings with "may" and "likely," as though they represent radical thinking and careful wording is essential for avoiding a lawsuit, is beyond me. 

How could such a statement not be true? Imagine with me if you will:

It's a beautiful June afternoon. Little Billy Bumponalog is sitting under a tree finishing off an all-day sucker and two toaster pastries. His best friend, Joey trots over. Joey says, "Hey, Billy! Let's play tag!"

Billy Bumponalog slowly stirs from a stupor induced by a plunge in his glucose levels. He gazes up at Joey through slitted eyes. 

"Is that you, Joey?" Billy asks weakly.

Joey is annoyed. This has happened before, just yesterday, as a matter of fact. "Sure it's me. Who'd you think it was?"

"For a minute there, you looked a little like my Aunt Babs," says Billy. "She always brings me candy when she visits. Man, I'm kinda bummed you're not her."

"You know, I think you may be over-indulging your sweet tooth," Joey advises. "That might make health-endangering conditions such as obesity and diabetes at least somewhat more likely."

Joey has a bright future writing about medical research. "Now, c'mon," he says. "Let's play tag!" Then he bops Billy lightly on the head. "You're it!"

Because of Billy's blood sugar levels, that playful little tap knocks him cold. He slumps onto his side for a long summer's nap. Joey shrugs and runs off, playing tag with himself, thumping himself on alternating cheeks, right and left, right and left until he too falls to the ground, unconscious.

Gosh, maybe it is plausible.