Who Needs a Personal Trainer When You Live in a Multi-cat Home?

My friend Steph emailed me the other day and she was so proud that her husband Toby bought her training sessions with a personal trainer for her birthday. Steph and I have been friends for over thirty years, and like me, gravity has caught up with her and she is fighting the battle of the bulge and combatting other struggles with her body.

Her email was full of all the rigors this trainer is putting her through. She said it was almost as if she was in boot camp, he was so tough on her.

I answered her wishing her luck in her new physical fitness training program, without reminding her of the countless gym memberships of the past that both of us attended with enthusiasm for a few months before our passes started gathering dust and cobwebs, including our membership at Richard Simmons Exercise Asylum- a bout with Spa and Fitness World and the boxes of motivational tapes from exercise gurus Jane Fonda, and others to numerous (or embarassing) to mention.

By the time I was finished composing the email, it was time for me to get busy around here.

The first order of the day- strength training consisting of lifting several 20 pound bags of dry cat food and pouring the food into the several feral feeders we have around the place. If you have ever wondered how many cups of food you can give your cat from these bags- I have the answer- you can get 45 cups of food from one 20 pound bag.

Our feeders outside are 33 gallon trashcans with tight fitting lids and small holes near the bottom so the cats can come and feed. Once the kibble is eaten, it is a simple matter of a kitty sticking her paw into the hole to dislodge more kibble, so keeping it full is always an advantage.

Now it was time to fill the water bowls. I use small buckets in the enclosure. I have them set inside a large truck tire, so the kitties simply perch on the side of the tire to get a drink from their personal pool.

Because our puppy Gretchen believes hoses are the best puppy toy ever created, I either have to carry water out of the house, or load up my wheelbarrow with several empty buckets and trundle out to the pasture to get water from the irrigation well. The agility of this exercise challenges me. I am running through rocky terrain, weaving in and out while balancing the barrow. I do not want to get a ticket for reckless endangerment because my wheelbarrow tire accidentally smushed the tail of Riley, Squirrel of the other curious barn kitties.

Once the buckets are full, my chest and shoulders begin to ache during the return trip.

Deep Knee bends are crucial when I am scooping out the litter pans. One problem I encounter during these sessions is the inability to breathe correctly while I am working out in this fashion. Understanding that deep breathing helps endurance and expands your lungs does not erase the damage done to those lungs when you are scooping out waste and disposing of the matter. Holding my breath becomes a better option, even on scrub the litter pan days. Dry litter dust is killer on the respiratory system. Sitting waiting in the corner for their turn are several 27 pound bags of stall dry. Hefting them up on top of the counter and pouring the contents down into the litter containers works pecs and biceps.

Keeping my back straight while Panda sits on my shoulder improves my posture. Who needs a book on their head, when you have an 8 pound cat riding on your shoulder while you are doing cat chores.

My big feet carefully navigate the path created by mulit-colored critters blocking my way. Everest perches on the overhead ramp, following me as I make my rounds. Executing head bobs keeps me safe from his playful claws. He loves to get tangled up in my hair and pull it off to the side. Perhaps a hair cut is soon in order?

Who needs a personal trainer? I have over a dozen. They work from scratch. By the time I have filled all the food bowls, brought in water, scooped litter pans, cleaned up the floor from the midnight preytime and rubbed each kitty’s head half a dozen times, I can barely manage to stumble into the house where I take a hot shower. The hot water soothes muscles stretched beyond their endurance. I know full well I need to rest up, because tomorrow, the routine will start all over again.

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