Cat Tales

There’s about a foot of snow predicted for southwestern Vermont tonight. It’s not an epic snowstorm, but I’m inclined to go along with the higher predictions for one simple reason.  The animals have told me so.

I’m not claiming I can talk to animals (I’m still trying to understand the voices in my own head), but Katy-the-wonder-dog and our black cat Snoop have shunned the outdoors most of the afternoon, lounging around the house like a couple of under-served teenagers.

As it happens, Snoop isn’t just a great weather forecaster, he just may be a scientific genius.

In the summer, Snoop goes by his wildcat name, The Chipmunk Slayer.  He spends his mornings stalking and his afternoons decorating our stoop with his trophies.

You would think all this exercise would make him a lean, mean, garden-protecting machine, but you’d be wrong.

Snoop in summer is round.  His girth has proven too challenging even for birds of prey (we found talon marks on his rump one summer) to lift off with.

When chipmunk season ends, Snoop becomes a slug with fur, decorating laundry baskets and light-colored blankets with as much black fur as he can donate.  And herein is the genius and the lesson of Snoop.

It is at precisely this time of year, when he is not exercising, that he really drops that weight.  The absence of the winter chipmunk buffet could explain it, but I think he’s figured out the greatest mystery of life – how to lose weight and have your food served to you without exercising too.

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