There are two ongoing projects in my life: (1) How to best deal with the daily onslaught of Mia nuggets and the pee-cakes produced by Mr. Would-love-to-drink-directly-from-a-City-water-main, and (2) How to deal with the cats’ weight issues. Yes, I say cats, plural. As most of you know, Linus is quite large. We’ve tried a number of solutions, which you may have followed on this blog, including putting him on a prescription diet that cost more than our groceries, to no avail.

The most disturbing phenomenon of late is Mia’s diminishing size. It’s subtle, gradual, but in light of Linus’ subtle, gradual _increase_ in size, it appears the cat-weight is migrating from one feline body to the other. We need to achieve some kind of stasus with the weight, at the very least.

So Mia is on a canned food diet. This is a dream come true for Mia, which she lets us know by performing a twice daily ceremony of joyous screeching accompanied by an attempt to begin eating her food from the plate before it is anywhere near the floor—as in, while it is in midair and in one of our hands. Since we want her to eat more, we refrain from beating her off and instead allow her to hang her ribsy body from our arms by her paw-hooks and slurp up as much as she can before we detach from each other.

And now Linus must go on a measured-portion diet.