Our goddaughter, Bethany, has a deep love for Pfennig. Her silly ol’ mama is allergic to cats, so pets are banned from their home. (Actually, it’s because Deborah has a past involving rabbits almost as dark and ugly as Brad’s. Cats would not be safe.)
In the past, Bethany and Macy’s adoration was limited to offering Pfennig limitless Yummy Crunchies, which was right up her alley. (They’re properly leery of Cricket, though. Her name is “Mean Mean Kitty” to all children who visit.) Lately, though, somebody must have told Bethany that you can actually pick up cats. That probably works with most of them, but not our pfatty Pfenning. She has some serious extra poundage on her frame, so when Bethany picks her up like Frieda’s boneless cat from Peanuts, Pfennig has difficutly breathing…. and making her heart beat. Pfennig is used to being Cricket’s punching bag, so she has no way to express her displeasure except by flicking the tip of her tail. Actually, last time she actually raised a warning paw – but she didn’t know what to do with it.
Thanks, Bethany. You’re nothing but good for my lazy cat!