In-fur-vention

I think most of you have met Spike, right?

Spike is about five or six years old now. If Spike was a dog, she'd be a Corgie--she has that body type. You know what I mean--shortish legs and solidly built. Kind of runs to fat, but SHHHHHH! Don't tell her I said that!

In the last few weeks, Hubby and I noticed Spike can't jump up on the bed anymore--she has to climb her way up. No, there's nothing wrong with her--she's not in any pain or anything. We just think she's getting too fat. Aerodynamics, gravity--whatever. Sad, really.

So I started thinking. I'm the one who feeds her, and I know she doesn't overeat. She doesn't go outside to eat mice or visit the neighbors for snacks and extra meals either. Although she can go outside whenever she likes, she doesn't enjoy it very much. Finally, after some thought, I figured Spike's problem wasn't FOOD at all--it was EXERCISE. Or, more precisely, the LACK of exercise. What to do?

After considering the options, I decided it was time to stage an in-fur-vention, and we did it tonight. We confronted Spike, told her we were putting her on a strict exercise regimen, and we brought in a personal trainer--

He may LOOK small, but he's a powerhouse of activity, and we fully expect he will get Spike into a daily exercise routine soon. So far, though, she's in denial. Well, I guess it's to be expected--you know how interventions can go. She's done nothing but look at all of us with suspicion tonight, spitting and hissing and telling us we don't understand her or love her. But she'll come around. Soon she'll realize we're only doing this for her own good, and I think she'll stop seeing her personal trainer as a threat and see him as potential boy toy material. After all, he IS pretty cute, isn't he?