“She’s Too Fat.” That’s What the Vet Said.

 

“You’re killing her.  She’ll get Diabetes…”

How did this happen?  I don’t know.

I was feeding her as usual.  But something went terribly wrong. Unexpectedly she blew up to monster size.  Gone was that scrawny little creature for whom I had felt so sorry; now, there was this mighty overnight presence.

(She was so big that you could almost envision her getting her own food.)

I’m killing her, I thought.  I’m killing this little huge creature. 

I felt different.  I looked different, like an axe murderer?

The whole veterinary office was looking at us as we exited, whispering behind our backs, I was sure.

“You have to lose weight,” I said to her at breakfast next morning.   She looked at me solemnly.  She knew I wasn’t saying anything good.  There were no words of food mentioned.

“It would help if you’d stop eating your sister’s food as well as your own, and no more 10 AM treats, no more 1 AM treats.  No more gourmet pet meals that cost me a fortune.”

Wait, I was beginning to see a pattern here….

“It doesn’t help that you have no shut-off valve.”  I said gratuitously.

Available in : A Quick Read: Short-Short Stories

This Story is Completely True!