Morning Vom

Did everybody eat breakfast this morning?

Good.
Because you’re about to throw it back up again.

Feast your eyes on this:
(I PROMISE that, as vulgar as this appears, it is totally safe for work).























“WHAT,” you might ask, “IS THAT!?!?!??!”

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the stomach of our newest cat Tiger aka. Pumpkin aka. Gordo aka. Jabba the Hut (amongst other descriptors).

You see, this cat is lovely, for the most part. She’s sweet and affectionate and social and everything you could ever want in a cat.

The problem is ….

How do I put this delicately…

She has stomach testicles.

Apparently, at one point, this feline had a 22’’ waist. While she is notably slimmer than she used to be, everything that was once around her middle has kind of slumped down to the lowest parts of her belly, which now drags on the ground when she walks. Add to that a slightly neurotic need to clean herself, and you’re left with a corpulent cat belly that is flabby, 100% hairless and noticeably irritated.

SEXY.

So when you stand the aforementioned kitty on her hind legs and, say, make her dance to the latest Miley Cyrus song, her stomach swings and sways about in two pouches of equally distributed mass (I believe they are in line with her mammary glands) that appear, for lack of a better term, like balls.

This cat?
Could do a truffle shuffle that would put Chunk to shame (if only her stomach didn’t so closely resemble a scrotum).

And as much as we’ve made fun of her for her testicle-stomach, she seems in no hurry to lose the weight.

Every time you sit at the table to eat, she’s there waiting for a hand-out.
Our roommate Crystal texted us one evening as she sat down to dine alone with this image, cleverly captioned “I can haz Tostitos?”



Apparently, she could. (Aunt Crystal is a sucker)

Caption: Nom nom nom

Unfortunately, this cat appears to need some serious one-on-one attention. Being that we have 3 other animals in our house (well, 4 if you count a neglected beta fish), we just don’t seem to be able to give her the attention that she deserves.

As a result, my sister has graciously agreed to take the cat on the condition that her fur doesn’t too badly aggravate her allergies.

So to my dear sister Emily, may I say congratulations on your acquisition of Ball-sac-tummy Cat!
May she and her scrotum belly find eternal happiness in your humble abode.
(But be warned: poke at your own risk).