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Sunday 9 September 2007

Feline Funk


In my earlier post I wrote about being elated that Winnie has put on some weight. I thought that it was a sign that she was happy and contented with life. She became Winnie the Wombat; I was so pleased with her weight gain as she had never been this cuddly and round before. Little did I suspect it could potentially be something more grim than that.

Winnie's always been a cat that’s neither thin nor obese. She may be petite in size but is always of the right weight. She eats well, is very lithe and agile and has the capability of jumping up a vertical wall the height of approximately seven feet steadily with great ease; she was that nimble.

When I was home last two weeks, seeing Ninnie put on weight made me hastily [and stupidly] conclude that in her twilight years [she is 7 ‘human’ years but 49 ‘cat’ years old] she has finally started to gain weight resulting from blissfully sleeping more hours in a day compared to the work-hours I put in three days!


After reading an article in Readers Digest a few days ago, I fear I may haplessly be mistaken.

Apparently cats go through a state of depression from sheer boredom; they actually fall into a funk. The signs quoted in the article of this depression include overeating, lax grooming and sleeping at daybreak [when they should really be out hunting birds/lizards/etc].

Now when I think back, Winnie did have those symptoms. She ate more than usual and was constantly napping. She would only wake up for food [more times that her usual 3 meals a day habit] and when she needed to answer nature’s call. Sometimes I would purposely stir her deep slumber in the evenings at 6-ish, carry her downstairs [she sleeps on my bed] despite her protests and put her in the garden for some fresh air. If left on her own, she’d probably continue sleeping until the next morning. Eventually, no longer than one hour being outdoors, she'd run straight up to the bedroom anyways.


When all this was happening, silly ole me was thinking nothing of it, merely that 'she is getting old and logically needs more rest’. O I'm such a dumb-dumb.

Now being thousands of miles away from Winnie, I worry that the article may be true for her, and that I am powerless to do anything about it. It breaks my heart to think she may be suffering from depression and that I cannot be there for her; to cheer her up a little and engage her in some interactive cat-games to keep her out of the funk she ‘may possibly’ be in. It’s such a difficult [maybe unjust even?] situation because with family/friends/humans you can just pick the phone up and check on their well-being but with animals, what can you do?


My only hope is that if she was indeed in a state of depression, that it will not last too long and that her situation will improve very soon. I have told Mum + Dad to look out for her. Otherwise, I’m praying hard that it is merely an old age thing rather than something more clinical.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

god i hate cats!!!

i used to love them, but now i don't even want any close to me now.