LJ Idol, Season 9: Week 10 - "If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time."
I'm the proud mamma of a fat cat named Malcolm. He is nine years old, and weighs about 25 pounds. He is the sweetest cat possible - he loves to head-butt me to demand attention and petting. He has a bit of arthritis, but doesn't let that stop him. When he isn't snoozing on the bed or in the patch of sunlight at the top of the stairs, he enjoys drinking out of the faucet - he loves running water! Every time he finds one of us in the bathroom (for some reason our master bathroom doesn't have a door, just a doorway - it was like that when we got the house over a decade ago) he jumps up onto the counter top and waits impatiently for us to turn the faucet to a light trickle, then sticks his head underneath and laps the softly flowing stream of water.
These last few years, between his slow weight gain and the arthritis, Malcolm has been having more and more trouble making that leap onto the counter. It takes him from two to ten tries, but Mal doesn't give up. You can watch his stubborn antics yourself in the following iPhone video (which I recorded back in late January) to see exactly what I mean. Yes, as you might suspect I'm sitting on the toilet, but I promise you can only see a bit of my plump thigh at one point in the foreground, and hear me telling him "good job" sotto voce at the end. Otherwise, you can watch Malcolm in his stubborn attempts to get up to the faucet, as one of our other cats, Kara, watches him from the background. (Note to the VI: you can hear a few little thuds to indicate when Malcolm jumps and hits the cabinet doors with his paws)
Video Here
Although I hate having to watch Malcolm try and miss, I know I can't help him. If I pick him up and put him on the counter, he’s getting neither the exercise he so obviously needs, nor the achievement of obtaining his goal. The look of pleasure and success that he gives me when he gets to the top, the straightforward look that means, "See? I knew I could do it! Now please turn on the tap, because I don’t have any thumbs!" always makes me smile.
I think about Malcolm often when I am at the gym for one of the twice-weekly classes that (much to my surprise) I actually look forward to attending. My favorite class - and I have tried at least six or seven different ones - is the “Hip Hop Hustle” which is held every Friday afternoon. It is a 45 minute dance class, and our youthful instructor changes her routine each week to keep it fresh.
To be brutally honest, I'm as out of shape as Malcolm, albeit with mild lymphedema in my lower legs instead of arthritis, but I just do the best I can with the dance moves. Our instructor shows us both lower impact options that require less jumping around, as well as higher impact for those in better shape. Regardless of how close I am to getting it "right", at least I am moving, sweating, and making an attempt. Nobody can do it for me - I have to make the effort and motivate myself.
"Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power." --Lao Tzu
Who says you can't teach an old cat new tricks? Not me, and definitely not Malcolm!
These last few years, between his slow weight gain and the arthritis, Malcolm has been having more and more trouble making that leap onto the counter. It takes him from two to ten tries, but Mal doesn't give up. You can watch his stubborn antics yourself in the following iPhone video (which I recorded back in late January) to see exactly what I mean. Yes, as you might suspect I'm sitting on the toilet, but I promise you can only see a bit of my plump thigh at one point in the foreground, and hear me telling him "good job" sotto voce at the end. Otherwise, you can watch Malcolm in his stubborn attempts to get up to the faucet, as one of our other cats, Kara, watches him from the background. (Note to the VI: you can hear a few little thuds to indicate when Malcolm jumps and hits the cabinet doors with his paws)
Video Here
Although I hate having to watch Malcolm try and miss, I know I can't help him. If I pick him up and put him on the counter, he’s getting neither the exercise he so obviously needs, nor the achievement of obtaining his goal. The look of pleasure and success that he gives me when he gets to the top, the straightforward look that means, "See? I knew I could do it! Now please turn on the tap, because I don’t have any thumbs!" always makes me smile.
I think about Malcolm often when I am at the gym for one of the twice-weekly classes that (much to my surprise) I actually look forward to attending. My favorite class - and I have tried at least six or seven different ones - is the “Hip Hop Hustle” which is held every Friday afternoon. It is a 45 minute dance class, and our youthful instructor changes her routine each week to keep it fresh.
To be brutally honest, I'm as out of shape as Malcolm, albeit with mild lymphedema in my lower legs instead of arthritis, but I just do the best I can with the dance moves. Our instructor shows us both lower impact options that require less jumping around, as well as higher impact for those in better shape. Regardless of how close I am to getting it "right", at least I am moving, sweating, and making an attempt. Nobody can do it for me - I have to make the effort and motivate myself.
"Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power." --Lao Tzu
Who says you can't teach an old cat new tricks? Not me, and definitely not Malcolm!