Smile of the Tiger

I spend a lot of time in my office. Over the years, I have collected various items that could be construed as decorative or sentimental or meaningful to my job in some way. They grace my walls, line my shelves, spill forth from drawers, idle in corners, these things I can't seem to part with for reasons that tug at the back of my brain but never quite reveal themselves. Slips of paper with funny quotes, bobbleheads of Pistons long gone, cards from appreciative folks, stuffed frogs, magazines that should be retired to a waiting room, cables cables and more cables, a large rock (yes, a rock), a bag of fake money and much, much more. In the midst of all this clutter, all these things that warrant a slow shake of the head from co-workers who dare venture in, I have displayed one item that adequately sums up my feelings in any given moment throughout the work day. It's a framed t-shirt of a very fat cat with a deep frown. It says, "I Am Smiling." Oh, the delicious irony! And it's so much deeper than that one with the kitten dangling from a branch that says "Hang in There." You see, the cat is NOT SMILING. But...he is. According to the words over his head. Smiling inwardly, I suppose. Or maybe this is the extent of his joy. A frown. Or maybe he's trying to tell us you can't judge a book by its cover. He looks decidely unhappy, but truly, he's thoroughly pleased with everything around him. I think my general demeanor is positive and open and I don't have to work too hard to be in a good mood. Because I have the Fracker face, a subtle combination of my Dad's completely unreadable expression and my Mom's tendency to frown while concentrating, I believe I take on a somewhat disgruntled look while working. I might even look a bit pissed. Which leads to unapproachability. Which means people might avoid me. Which is why I think I collect so much crap in my office. I lack human intervention. When I received the I Am Smiling framed t-shirt a while back from my Aunt Gisela and my dear Uncle Jim (who passed away a couple of weeks ago and will so be missed), I immediately thought, hey! This will be perfect in my office. People will take one look and realize even though my face looks like you do not want to mess with me right now, I'm totally smiling! Really, I'm super nice! On the inside! Now, whenever anyone comes into my office and after one look at my face already starts stepping back, I only have to point at the poster and say, "No, no. It's okay. I am smiling." I feel a certain kinship with that cat. Makes me want to get one for real. Maybe that's the next step for my office. A huge tiger sitting next to me at my desk wearing the t-shirt ripped from the frame. Nothing says "I enjoy what I do" like a Bengal by my side in cat's clothing declaring smiles all around. I think I'll move the rock and make room for him...I have just enough fake money for a trip to where the wild things are. Which, until recently, was Ohio.

What's Under That Fur Coat?

My cat is fattening up. She's gone from 7.5 pounds to about 10 in 6 months. That's like me putting on 25 pounds. But we're not talking about me. She's still average, but I see other cats in the neighborhood and wonder if there's something in the water. Now that she's a teenager, I worry she might have a boyfriend. We were gone for two weeks over Christmas...I saw no evidence of partying, but she's always been pretty tidy. And secretive. I should have never gotten her that cell phone. How she is able to text without thumbs...Let's just say her weight gain is legit, though, and she's on her way to becoming a fatty. Is she an apple or a pear? I'm thinking pumpkin. Most fat cats are really big around the middle and have the same sized head of a normal cat. That's the route she's going to take, I can see it in her gut. I just don't understand the weight gain. She eats the same thing every day: crunchies. That's the scientific name for Iams orange bag hard food that comes in little triangle-shaped what I thought were "bite sizes." I watched her this morning. She eats three in one bite. But she only takes two bites and then walks away like it's the worst thing she's ever tasted in her life. Last night she chased a dropped grape around the living room. She seems sensible about her diet and gets plenty of exercise. Her litter box is in the basement. Sometimes she sprints three flights just to take a whiz. Granted, she sleeps two hours in a sunbeam by the sliding glass door, four hours in a box of coats in the bedroom, three more hours while watching TV (she is a Biggest Loser FANATIC!!!) and another 10 hours through the night practically on my face. So maybe she could be a little more active, but I think her bursts of panicked galloping from one end of the house to the other burn at least 7 calories each time. That's probably two bites of crunchies. I checked the food bag, not a lot of info there other than she shouldn't be eating more than a cup a day for her weight class. The chart goes up to 20 lbs. What is that, cougar? I have nothing against fat cats, I just wonder how they got to that point. I imagine them eating whole birds and standing up just to pee. I think a pair of tight jeans might help. If cats wore clothes, it would be a whole different ball game. When you can see folds flopping over fabric, it's a bit of an inspiration. But Maverick's not quite there yet; she falls asleep reading Shape magazine just like her Momma(s).