Cats and gardening do not generally go well together but no one’s told Shirley that. Yesterday I was dragged outside after ‘breakfast’ for my daily slog to help her garden. I was exhausted watching her cut back hedges, dig up dahlias, rake leaves and fill a wheelbarrow with ’stuff’. Bored rigid, I tossed around a couple of caterpillars, pinned down a salamander and looked for something to eat. Being a cat, I’m not usually partial to vegetation but I found a shrub that was simply delicious and made me feel curiously energized. It wasn’t long before I was racing around the flower beds shedding ounce after ounce. Shirley didn’t trust my new-found agility and choose to plop me down on top of a wheelbarrow full of debris that was headed for the compost heap. On our journey my mood shifted from frantic to dreamy. All of a sudden everything was strangely peaceful and relaxing. Although Shirley insisted on bouncing me over mole hills (I sense law suits in my future) I felt peaceful and serene. At the compost heap I managed to avoid being hurled out along with the rest of the contents then I stretched out and got in a quick nap on our way back to the garden. “Patches - are you alright? Did you get into the cat nip?” I was back in my room dreaming of cat nip-laced kibble and cat nip-sprinkled canned food. Gardening is indeed a well kept secret. I hope I can help again tomorrow.

It’s been two weeks since my last weigh in and once again, at today’s weigh in, I made my people proud. Another half a pound sliced off my tonnage - a minuscule 17.25lbs was the verdict. I’m glad that Parkway got their scales fixed - no more unfair status quos at my weigh ins. My Mom picked up more canned food to give to Shirley not realizing that I’m only half way through the second of eight cans that she brought last time - does anyone want to buy some Purina OM canned food? I’d take a trade for the F-word (Friskies or Fancy Feast).

The rabble has gone .  No more lessons in how to play for me.  I did, however, manage to master the art of catching the feather toy – thank you Maggie.  No one knew until Shirley noticed me chasing an imaginary feather toy in my room.  I think she thought I was having a seizure.  So, of course she tried to capture it on film but I was just too fast for her.  I was leaping and spinning – yes, I’m a veritable break-dancer.  The best thing is I get a really good cardio workout.  I’ll be able to slide under the door to freedom before long.  Right now though, I’m having a lay down - can’t tell if the room’s spinning or if I’m still ‘warming down’ as we say in the fitness world.  I caught sight of myself in the window before bedtime last night - svelte and willowy and I sang myself to sleep – I’m adorable, – I’m adorable…

Of course I’m grateful to the two cats next door (Maggie and Parker) for the tube of brown goo -very tasty thank you.  But, they are just too rowdy.  All night that Maggie was chasing leaves that blew past their window – newsflash Maggie -they’re on the OUTSIDE, therefore you’ll never catch them.  Parker thinks he’s something special too.  O.K. He’s handsome, slim (not that slim matters right?), he has a gorgeous coat and markings oh and the BEST eyes, he’s very athletic too, but that doesn’t mean he rules the joint.  He swaggers past my room like Casanova, stopping to groom imaginary ruffles in his coat when he’s right by my door – oh give me a break Parker – hand over the kibble and might consider an encounter!

So, the trio – Maggie, Parker and Muffin brought this tube of brown goo.  I don’t want to get her into trouble, but Shirley left the top off.  I squeezed gently with one paw and sampled the strange contents.  Well, I couldn’t help myself from stamping up and down in frenzy with all four paws and finishing off the remainder.  It splattered everywhere but of course I haven’t left a trace.  What a delight.  I’d forgotten what gorging was all about.  Who knows what it is but let’s just say ‘things’ are moving along very nicely thank you very much.  Also, I have a feeling I won’t be bothered by hairballs for the next six months.  Sweet justice - Shirley’s clueless .

‘Lady’ arrived this morning.  No, she’s not a Golden Retriever, I know -who’d call a cat ‘Lady’?  Anyway, she gave me the most ‘knowing’ look from her top shelf.  What could this mean?  Did she have a message from the other side?  Did she have kibble stashed under her armpits?  I had to find out.  Well, during her ‘time out’ of her room she shoved this note under my door: “PATCHES, START AN EX-FAT CHAPTER - WE NEED YOU AS A ROLE MODEL”  She had a point - I’m famous therefore I could seriously influence the naive and ignorant AND my PAC donations would go through the roof.  But, do I share the ‘ex-fat’ philosophy?  Is being fat a choice?  Did I nurture those pounds or are they natural?  Nobody warned me about being fat so I shouldn’t blame myself and if I WANT to be thin I CAN be thin. Let me think.  Hmm.  Nope, I’m fat.  I like being fat.  When I’m fat, I’m being myself.  I know that now I could ‘pass’ as thin but come on we all know that I’m just denying who I really am.  So, no Golden Retarded Cat - start your own ex-fat chapter!  I’m going to pig out on a piece of kibble.

Now, about the rabble that moved in yesterday. They’re only here for a week but you should see the stuff they brought – everyone else here has had to breathe in. Maggie and Parker are in the next room to me. She’s a right little madam - lounging in the window like a hussy on one of their four beds and chasing the feather toy with zero inhibitions. Parker is a bit more demure – he chases the feather toy then pretends he hasn’t. Then there’s Muffin. She’s got her own room down the way. Let’s say she looks ’seasoned’ and is absolutely disgusted with Maggie and Parker’s playfulness. Anyway, I’m exhausted just watching them – I’m going for a lay down.

Believers, it’s true, I’m officially THIN - 17.75lbs.  I was a big old fat 21 pounder when I arrived here.  I’m ahead of schedule for my weight loss program and Doctor Feleciano thinks I’m the greatest - she think Shirley’s not bad too .

What a disturbing morning! This gang of cats showed up today with an entourage – who do they think they are???  A U-Haul of stuff arrived with them – beds, blankets, and more importantly what looked to be a pallet of food (okay – so, I’m dreaming, but anything more than the tidbits I’m feed looks like a buffet).  The list of special requests – you’d think that Britney Spears girl was checking in…  This could work to my advantage – Shirley may be distracted with all of the special requests and I can dig into their food supply to supplement the morsels I’m tossed.  Stay tuned…

My new skinnyness will be formally celebrated tomorrow, my weigh-in will happen at Parkway – fans keep back, form orderly queues for autographs.  I know you’re all eagerly awaiting the exact poundage but please be patient.  I would stake my next six dinners (Yes – I know that’s not very much food) on having lost at least 2-3lbs.  Call me optimistic, call me Patches but tomorrow you can all call me Twiggy.