Zacchi, bless him, has always been a pathetic eater. Light of frame, nervous, never hungry... it was always an effort to get him to eat at all to put any flesh on the bones under the wirey hair. And dog food, always available, held little appeal. Food from my kitchen, or Franca's left over pasta, well, that was a different story. But otherwise he would pick little, but often.
Pickle loves food. Any food. Any where. Any which way. But she doesn't (yet) steal from the coffee table unless I have really left something close to the edge and it is just way too much of a good thing right by her nose. She knows that No means NOOOO!
The situation today:
After Pickle's illness she has become terribly spoilt, and less active. Much much less active. And so she grows... and grows. And of course the more she eats, the harder it is to run up hills. I can relate to that. RUN up hills? You've got to be kidding.
So Pickle and I are watching what we eat. And Pickle watches what I eat. And what Zacchi eats. And the poor thing wonders why her tummy isn't quite as full as it used to be.
I have had to separate them at meal time; in fact, before there was no proper meal time. Pickle would eat everything I put out for both of them, and then look for more. And because Zacchi had missed out, I always put out more. Now I give Zacchi his meal apart, so it is not consumed in a few crunches.
The problem is that Zacchi eats such dainty portions, then wants to come back in, or go out, as the case may be. Then, five minutes later, he wants the door opened again. And again. In the meantime I am up and down like a yoyo, opening, closing, grabbing food from Pickle when she sneaks out to get Zacchi's...
Dear rotund Pickle, at least one of us is getting exercise even though there is cold wet miserable weather outside. Now about you going outside again... Pickle... no Pickle... you are not a cat, you are supposed to LIKE being outside barking at pigeons or chasing cats. Pickle, if I put some food outside will you go out... ?