Collateral Damage

The problem with Leo being sick -- other than Leo being sick -- is that Manny is getting so fat he can barely leap onto the bed without taking a running start. More like a waddling start.

Don't get me wrong. Leo is still thriving. The only indication that there's anything terminally or even temporarily wrong with him is a slightly finicky appetite. He's an old guy, and he's had a finicky appetite before, but these days I worry that it's because of his cancer or his anti-nausea pills or his occasional chemotherapy, and I know it's important for him to keep his weight up.

So while Leo is licking anti-nausea pills secreted within gobs of peanut butter off my finger, Manny gets his own special spoonful. When Leo gets bored with his breakfast, Manny is there, with lightning speed, his head digging furiously in the bowl and his wagging obese ass defying me to drag him away. When I try to coax Leo into finishing his dinner by adding a little crumbled hamburger or shredded cheese, I have to give Manny some, too; otherwise, he'll be face first in Leo's meal the minute I turn my back for a second. Manny may need a running start to leap onto the bed, but he's as crafty and agile as a fox when it comes to snarfing someone else's food.

Come to think of it, I'm sporting a bit of an extra spare tire these days as well. Could it be that Manny isn't the only one getting fat from Leo's illness? I've been known to grab an extra spoonful (more like a ladle-full) of peanut butter here and there. Certainly the dreary weather doesn't help. I get spoiled easily by a rare nice day, and even though I no longer have the frigid dead of winter as an excuse, somehow I've managed to skip a lot of walks. My back yard is a poop minefield.

So add to the emotional stress of Leo's illness some extra fat in my diet and fewer walks and lord knows how many consecutive days of lousy weather, and my motivation to exercise has gone the way of Manny's belly, which nearly grazes the floor when he walks. My exercise routine today consisted of changing into workout clothes (oy), bending over to tie my gym shoes (oy), driving to the health club, parking at the health club, and putting my seat back for just a moment so I could take what turned out to be a forty-five minute nap. Then I had to drive all the way home and climb a whole flight of stairs to get into bed and finish my nap. At which point Manny took a waddling leap up to join me, and Leo -- the sick one who's made us both fat -- leapt up like a prize thoroughbred to claim his spot by my feet.

Leo's gonna be around for a long time -- I'm sure of that. If Manny and I are to survive Leo's illness, we need to come up with a plan. We'll start tomorrow.