No maternal instinct

Winston is on a diet. Both our animals seem to be gaining weight since I started working. Maybe they are stress eaters. We’ve decided to go with a calorie-restriction diet. Winston follows me around during every waking hour (and sometimes the sleeping hours too) voicing his complaints about his empty food dish. “Meeeeoooow. MEOW!” He displayed his usual theatrics tonight while I made dinner. Perhaps I should point out that Winston is already eating diet food and has been for almost a year. Diet food is a failure. He loves it. Anyway, I finally relented and went over to Winston’s dish to give him a little dinner. It turned out that he had thrown up right next to his empty dish. So not only was he starving to death, but he also wasn’t feeling well. Meanwhile, I’m calling him chubby and telling him he should lose weight before people start making fun of him. Such guilt! I apologized profusely. But I know cats tend to hold grudges. If anyone asks why I have no children, well, there you have it. I’m already a horrible mother to a cat and a dog.