Himself

Himself hasn't been himself lately. He's gone from the funloving, crazy cat he normally is to having periods of extreme crankiness. The crankiness is usually directed at Cotton, and there have been times that I've been worried for Cotton's safety, because Winter is so cranky.

Yesterday, I was all set to take him into the vet (for the forth time); but today he seems OK. He's swearing a little bit more than normal, but mostly he's just hanging out.

Feeding Himself is becoming something of a chore. He believes, deep down to his soul, that if he can see the bottom of his bowl, the remaining food must be tainted. He won't eat anything once he catches sight of the bottom of the bowl, and I can't always stay ahead of him. And yet, all it takes is me adding a few scoops of kibble and he's happy to gorge himself once again.

Canned food is slowly being cut from his diet. I had to reintroduce kibble because he was losing too much weight. Now that he's on kibble, the canned food just sits there and dries out. It used to be that he'd eat the canned food right after I'd served it, and then later when I sneakily flipped it over to make him think he was getting a fresh serving again. Lately, he won't touch it unless I feed him by hand. ... Not that he doesn't like canned, because he spends an hour each evening, sitting on the top of the fridge and calling out for his canned food to be served to him in the manner of which he has become accustomed. Once I finally break down and hand feed him, he's all good once again.


Spoiled brat. Lucky for him that I love him.