Owen was done first, and as per normal, the vet was impressed by his size. He is a big cat that’s pure muscle. He’s long and sleek and if it wasn’t for the fact he hates everyone, self mutilates when stressed and likes to stick his face in bleach to get high he’d be the perfect specimen. Only problem with him was he was slightly constipated, but as I pointed out to the vet, that’s probably my fault as I didn’t let them out in the morning as I usually would, and while he’s toilet trained he won’t use the litter. He will hold it.
And then it was Marley’s turn. As per usual, the vet was less impressed by his size. The vet was impressed by his neck – (“A boof of a neck!”), but definitely less impressed by his weight. And as I tried to explain to the vet, it’s not my fault he’s a fatty fatty bom-bah. I have them both on the calorie-controlled food, and I measure out their food like I’m supposed to. Marley is lazy. Not only is he lazy, but he is lazy for a cat. Both he and Owen are inside-outside cats, but if given the choice, Marley won't go outside at all. (Though, that does work in his favour, as he has a white nose, and the vet does worry he'll end up with skin cancer.) Many a time I've been doing stuff around the house, and Marley pops out from somewhere and I would have sworn on a stack of bibles that he was outside. And when he's not being lazy.... across the road is bushland. Full of rabbits and mice and mice and rabbits. So even if I do control his food, once he's outside he can shoot over the road and get fresh meat. Plus, there's other cats in the neighbourhood; I wouldn't be surprised if he was stealing their food.
I will continue to try to get Marls to lose weight, but a cat will be a cat. He will do what he wants, and eat what he wants.