In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.
~Terry Pratchett ~
Our male cat, Hercules , is a bit on the, um, portly side. I tell him he is just large-boned, but the vet says that he needs to lose about 10 of his 23 pounds. He’s on a very strict diet of ½ cup of dry diet cat food per day. He sprawls on the island in the kitchen, paws hanging over the edge, barely raising his head to glare at us, as if he’s about to expire from the exhaustion of dieting. I’ve caught him playing the dogs’ water bowls a few times, but think he was really just covering up snacking on the doggie chow. His sister, Xena also needs to lose a bit, so she’s on the same Catkins plan (sometimes I just crack myself up). The third cat, Tabitha, has a suite of her own because she needs to *gain* weight. I’ve already found Hercules stuck in her rooms after pushing open the doors and not being able to open them from the inside when he was done gorging on her non-diet food.

Now there’s news from the other coast about another Hercules who paid the ultimate price – the loss of his dignity – when he strayed from home. Which brings me to the real question from this story - who the hell has a 5-inch wide doggie door anyway???