In the interests of science, the author has chosen to eat nothing but Whiskas Temptations for 30 straight days and chronicle the effects on my body and well- being.
The rules are as follows:
1) He will only eat Whiskas Temptations cat treats.
2) He will eat as many treats as the woman who feeds me offers.
3) He will try each flavor of Whiskas Temptations at least once.
I'm eating between four to seven times a day. It depends how many times I feel like going to the cupboard and screaming. The woman who feeds me doesnʼt seem to grasp that this is a scientific experiment and not just me being finicky.
Sheʼs not very bright. When she finally did absorb the parameters of this diet (I only eat Whiskas Tempations, nothing else), she tried just pouring a pile of their Seafood Medley in my bowl. It took almost three hours of whining before she figured out that cat treats donʼt get eaten unless theyʼre fed individually, by hand. Itʼs not about the food as much as about the power trip of ordering somebody less intelligent than you to cater to your whims.
Anyway, I donʼt know what they put into these babies but Man, they are good. In fact, I might just go get some more right now.
The woman who feeds me has taken to calling me Tummy Tummy Wumpkins. Okay, I admit Iʼve gained a few ounces-- Fine. Pounds. But I feel fantastic. Iʼve got energy. LOTS of energy. I donʼt sleep much but Iʼm not missing it, yʼknow? Iʼm feeling good. Really...fantastic.
I have a new cardio thing Iʼm addicted to: I start in one room, then, without picking a destination, leave the room as quickly as possible. Once Iʼve accelerated to top speed, I turn quickly into the first opening I see. Then, as soon as Iʼm in whatever the new space is, I sprint clockwise around the perimeter two-and-a-half times, stop, bathe for eight seconds, and then sprint counter-clockwise. Thatʼs it. I do at least three circuits like that in the morning and five in the evening. Itʼs weird - youʼd think Iʼd be getting faster but each day my time seems to get longer.
Iʼve also found no matter how much I bathe myself, my coat seems to smell of motor oil. My trips to the box seem less frequent. Mostly number one. It burns a little and smells like sulfur but that passes before Iʼm done scraping litter over the edge of the box. My coat has seen shinier days, thatʼs for sure. Youʼd think something that smells so much of motor oil wouldnʼt be so dry.
Iʼve also noticed a couple of missing tufts near the base of my tail. Might be related to the itching Iʼve been experiencing... Wait. Iʼm sorry. I lost track of what I was saying. My favorite favor is Liver & Beef Medley. I get hungry just saying the name. I feel like eating again.
My trips to the box seem less frequent. Mostly number one. It burns a little and smells like sulfur but that passes before Iʼm done scraping litter over the edge of the box. My coat has seen shinier days, thatʼs for sure. Youʼd think something that smells so much of motor oil wouldnʼt be so dry. Iʼve also noticed a couple of missing tufts near the base of my tail. Might be related to the itching Iʼve been experiencing... Wait. Iʼm sorry. I lost track of what I was saying. My favorite favor is Liver & Beef Medley. I get hungry just saying the name. I feel like eating again.
It's over! Thirty days of eating nothing but Whiskas Temptations. I have to admit, it hasnʼt been so hard. In fact, I could see continuing to eat them. The only real tough patch were the five days in a row that my only choices were Savory Salmon or Hairball Control. That was a living hell. As you know, I hate Salmon. It sucks when you want to puke and half of what youʼve been eating is anti-nausea medication. Also when my vet looked at my blood work and said Itʼs hard to believe anything with sodium levels this high is still alive. Not something you say in front of a cat who now has chest pains and shortness of breath. Talk about bedside manner!
And the weight thing, of course. Iʼm not thrilled about that. When I began this experiment, I weighed ten pounds, three ounces. I now tip the scale at seventeen point two and no longer fit under the sofa. Hell, I barely make it under the coffee table. Plus my litterbox is no longer a source of comfort and relief. Itʼs now just a place I try to squeeze a tennis ball down a garden hose. Iʼve also lost interest in bathing, purring and clawing expensive furniture.
Aside from those minor annoyances though-- Hold on. I hear the rustling in the pouch. Oh boy! I hope itʼs Liver & Beef Medley...