Flashes of Panic

Iz is a pretty vocal cat. This isn’t to say that he talks a lot, although he can, but that he has a wide range of vocalizations, ranging from the little “chirrup” noise he makes when he jumps up on something to the staccato “quacks” he makes when he’s sitting on a windowsill wishing he could chase birdies.

There’s one which we’ve decided should be called “the vet noise.” It’s lower than any other noise he makes, pretty much a growl, and he only makes it while at a veterinary office. He was giving it yesterday when the vet put him on the scale and announced that, despite having been on a limited diet for nearly four years, he’s still gaining weight.

The measuring cup we use to scoop his meals has now been replaced by the next size smaller, and I suspect this is going to mean twice-daily protests in advance of mealtimes. If we had another cat, it would be skinny… and Iz would be fatter.

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