Cat Too Fat for Hawk to Carry
July 17 | 1 Comment
It isn’t easy keeping the pounds off when you are older than the dirt you hide your bones under, especially when you have hip displaysia coupled with an ever present hankering for treats.
My health issue has minimized my exercise, and in fact, has allowed me to employ my own live in nurses. OK, the nurses are my parents, but I do allow them to live in my house. If I didn’t who would get up at 3:00 in the morning to carry me downstairs so I can pee? Certainly not my feline sister Mothball.
Hey, I get it. I know I should watch what I eat. The good thing is my parents are a bit lenient.
I thank my lucky bones I’m not the Bo from the White House who gets an earful from mother Michelle O’Bama about the downside of polishing off a box of Greenies. I imagine he hears this while she’s polishing off a double bacon cheeseburger.
It seems society doesn’t dig overweight creatures that are filled with love…and meatloaf.
So, is there no upside? Apparently there is, and it took a feline to prove it (oh the horror!).
It was dawn on the upper West Side the other day when a young woman heard a screech usually heard in the countryside: the raspy kreeing of a red-tailed hawk capturing its prey.
It got louder and more horrible as it suddenly mixed with the mews of a terrified cat. Her beloved cat, Eddie.
She ran out to her fifth-floor terrace where Eddie had been stretched out on a bench and saw nothing but “fur, broken nails, and feathers.”
She was heartbroken.
No offense, but when I saw him last month, he was huge, an all-white 15-pounder with light-green eyes. Eddie’s one fat cat.
Maybe the hawk thought Eddie was a plump white rabbit stretched out on the deck like a country breakfast. No way the 4-pound raptor could carry him over the brownstone rooftops to his nest in the park.
The answer is, he couldn’t. Not very far, anyway. He made it about 50 feet.
“He dropped him in the garden of a building a few doors down,” Eddie’s amazed owner said.
Fat Eddie had been dropped at least five stories.
“I can only imagine Eddie bounced off the umbrella like in the cartoons,” the owner said.
When the flabbergasted neighbor with cats falling from the sky went out that afternoon he spotted the woman’s flyers and called.
“I have your cat!” he exulted. She ran down, fetched Eddie and took him to a vet.
“He checked out fine, other than some minor cuts, scrapes and bruises,” the woman said.
Yeah, but he’s lost at least a couple of those nine lives.
The moral of the story is a fat butt is better than a dead one.