2/25/2012

French Cats DO Get Fat


The French people are not as thin as you think they are; they're thinner! But, in my time here...3 years so far...I've seen my share of overweight people too. Yes, they do exist! And I see them every day. Only I don't think that it would be appropriate to take pictures of them and blog about it, so instead I chose my favorite subject - cats, les chats. Or to be more specific, fat ones. 

gourmet : someone who appreciates good food

gourmand : also someone who appreciates good food but...doesn't quite know portion control, a ravenous eater

In France, we have kitties who fall into both categories, gourmets and gourmands. And since I am in love with plus-sized kitties, I thought I'd share with you some photos of les chats gourmands. So, here is some evidence that will show that French cats DO get fat.

a show of trust, exposing the fuzzy belly
First up, is TFP (Tiny Fat Princess). TFP, a name that I gave her, is a beautiful, tiny, chubby kitty. She doesn't look tiny in this picture but she's only about the size of a rugby ball....and the shape of one! 

She was abandoned we're told : ( but is now cared for by a few dedicated souls - by Nicole who feeds her twice a day no matter what, by Nicole's association which ensures the spaying and neutering among other things for the homeless cats of our residence, and by my husband and me, who give generous portions of love every time we see her. 

It took over a year of constant coaxing to get her to approach us, and now we can't enter or exit our building without being ambushed by her purring, rubbing and meowing. TFP is an ultra-fluffy - the softest actually - talkative princess who has a squeaky, high-pitched meow, and we absolutely adore her.

The "TFP" and her apple bottom


"Cookie Dough"
I don't know the name of this round little kitty, so I call her Cookie Dough, because she reminds me of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream. Vanilla ice cream, chocolate chips, tan colored cookie dough. She lives in our building and is as sweet as can be. This one, you'll hear her before you see her. For a kitty with a little pinhead, she's a big talker, or rather, she sort of yells. It's the cutest. She's incredibly friendly -- will give you tummy rubbing privileges on the first meet. The picture's a little blurry because I can never keep her still long enough to take a picture! 


weekly board meeting

The two gourmands that I'd like to point out here are the black one, and to the left of her, the grey and white one. Hard to see in this picture, but these two kitties have big, round bellies. I don't know these kitties well, as they're more elusive, but can tell you that they are definitely well fed! I love the grey and white one because he's a huge cat in length and body, has blue eyes and meows like a siamese. Adorable!


a pear shaped, attitude enriched TFP, with her 2 big bowls of dinner

Cats by the Sea

These gorgeous fluffies are eating some dry food that I brought for them. I believe they've all been adopted out since this photo was taken, but at the time, there were about 20 of them, all living amongst the large rocks at the water's edge. Several caring people like myself would go from time to time and offer them food and water, especially for the kittens. The one on the left in this picture is my favorite, and is absolutely beautiful. He is definitely a gourmand.


"Handsome"... it's 5 o'clock and Nicole the food lady is coming!
This sweet, orange boy is as kind, shy, and gentle as they come. Definitely a porker, he clearly looks forward to each meal put out by Nicole. I simply adore him and have spent a lot of time scratching behind his ears and sweet talking to him. I call him Handsome.


After a big meal, napping comes easy


Seaside Kitties
These chubby tabbies fill up on free food. Love for the tummy. This is as close as I could get to them.

And last but not least, by any means.....

Turkey!

Our plus-sized, squishy, soft, pillow-like, grey tabby named Turkey w/her seal pillow
Okay, so Turkey's an American cat and this blog is about French cats. But I thought that since Turkey lives in France, and since she's a major porker, she earned herself a spot in this post. 

First, let me say that we love this cat to pieces but believe it or not, we don't over-feed her. Pfft, yeah right, you're saying. No, really! 

The best diet food that we've found is called Prescription MD, and it's what she ate exclusively back in the States to prepare for the move to France. (She needed to shed some pounds in order to fly with us in the cabin of the plane. We'd never check a cat into cargo.) 

With Prescription MD, available at the Vet's office, she lost an amazing 3 pounds in about 6 months. We'd tried different diet food with the vet before this, and the vet eventually concluded that Turkey has poor genetics. Could this be possible? We knew that humans could inherit bad genes and be prone to weight issues, but a cat? Well, apparently so. 

In France, it came as no surprise that Prescription MD is 3x more expensive than it was in the US. Almost everything is more expensive here when compared to the States. So, sorry Turk, no magic food for you. 

She's been eating French cat food for the past three years and has effortlessly put back on about 2 pounds. : ( Next to un chat gourmand in the dictionnaire should definitely be the above picture. 

Pascal and I have NEVER seen a cat who loves to eat like Turkey. She currently tips the scales at 19 pounds, and so we've had no choice but to order her special diet food over the internet. We can't pay the outrageous price for the Prescription MD, but can at least get her other good quality diet food. 

She's been on a low carb, high protein, high fiber diet for months now. She's lost a little bit of weight but is still a plus-sized grey tabby! I call her my little saucisse (sausage), say "Elle est une grosse vache!" which always draws much laughter (it means - She is a fat cow!)......and I call her my porkpie. We are completely in love with her.

I've met other grey tabbies and guess what? They are all majorly chubby! Maybe it's true, what my husband once said, "Grey tabbies are fat - that's just the way it is."

Feed.me.



2/18/2012

The Art of Relaxation

When you live in France, or spend any amount of time here really, a lot of things will probably grab your attention - the fashion, the language, the delicious cheeses and wines, the villages, the gas prices (ouch), all the teeny tiny chiens, tiny cars, and tiny streets. And watch out for what those small chiens leave on the streets. Merde.
prairie dogs displaying some PDA

Something else that will grab your attention will undoubtedly be the PDA at the next table.  And no, I don't mean a personal data assistant. Think more along the lines of lips, hands and tongue. Get my drift? Muah! Kissy, kissy. XOXO, Bisous. Now if you're not the type, imagine being relaxed enough to kiss in public. The Frenchies seem to have no problem with this ; )

And you might also notice that you're hearing a lot of French being spoken at the tables around you at the café. No...they're not in fact all tourists enjoying their tiny espressos and big conversation. They're locals! Shouldn't they be at work or something? Sure, in a little bit. Meet the French, people who've mastered the art of relaxation. 

relaxation often leads to napping, as demonstrated by Turkey
The art of relaxation, something our cat Turkey knows a thing or two about, is more than just body language; it's truly a state of mind. Isn't that right, Turkey. Turkey? 

It's not uncommon to have a beer or carafe of wine on your lunch break here. And why not? Chances are you have at least an hour and a half till you have to get back to work.

I consider heading to work at 10:00am pretty late, but sometimes the English lessons I give don't start until then. So one morning I'm on the bus, and we stop at an intersection, next to a café. It was hilarious to me what I saw, and I wish I'd snapped a picture for the blog. At one of the sidewalk tables, were 4 men, drinking beer, playing cards, and smoking cigars. At 10 o'clock in the morning! I guess for some, 10am may be late to start work, but early enough to crack open a cold one!  

a postman un facteur on his scooter
Mail delivery. It's done on scooters here which I think is really cute. You might get your mail at about noon every day, or maybe 2pm. Why the two hour difference? Isn't time of the essence with this type of job? Well, like many people are, we're friendly with our mailman; in fact we give ours a box of chocolates each holiday season. So even though he's trying to get that mail into the slots as quickly as possible, trying to get onto the next residence, he's also as polite as can be, so if you want or need to speak with him, he'll oblige. So, a picture I just had to snap, was of a postman and some guy in Le Cannet, yakking away, while I was outside waiting for a friend to pick me up. They talked a good 15 minutes. Hey, let it be said that the men over here can bavarder just as much as the women!  

bavarder (v) : to chat ; a necessity that should be practiced daily

Another pic I really wish I had - but honestly if I took photos of everything that caught my eye, people would stare too much - was a picture of 2 bus drivers chatting. Attendez, je vous explique. Imaginez...you catch the bus to head to work and are so glad the bus is actually à l'heure instead of its usual 5-10 minute late arrival. Part way into the commute, your bus driver slows down and stops next to an approaching bus, driven by a buddy of his...and they slide open their windows and start chatting away! 

Turkey always has something to say
A couple of cars are behind both buses so you think, OK, surely this is just a quick Salut, mais non! They carry on a conversation as if it's the end of their shift, as if there's no one on either bus trying to get to work, as if this is a totally appropriate, professional behavior. 

About 2 minutes pass and the chatty cathy bus drivers aren't showing any sign of wrapping it up, and you think you're going to accidentally yell something along the lines of, "Uh..helLLOOOO!!!!" But you look around and see that no one seems to share this sense of urgency that's mounting inside of you. You're having an out of body experience. It's a dream. You're in bizarro bus world. And then it hits you... You're in France. You have NO choice but to try to relax. Eventually the bus hisses and spits and you start moving again, and your blood pressure starts to go back down. 

Only 5 minutes were lost. Learn to relax, American. Learn.to.relax. And take the earlier bus time if you want to get somewhere on time, because you never know when you're going to get held up by "traffic."  

As I've mentioned before, it takes some getting used to, this relaxation thing here in France. Us Americans, we reserve this guilty pleasure for weekends, the occasional vacation, and retirement. But during the day? While we're young and able? While at work? Presque jamais.

Stop and Smell the Roses

one of my father-in-law's gorgeous roses
Observing the French in their daily routines can be fascinating. Things move at a very slow pace here. If you live here, this pace starts to grow on you. So I suggest going with it. Enjoy the long lunch and fabulously long dinner at a friend's. Lighten that to-do list on a day off. There's more to life than just work, work, work, and constantly doing things. Stop to smell the roses. I have to admit, after a while, it starts to feel pretty good, relaxing. Still feels like a guilty pleasure, but those feel good too. I mean there's not much you can do once you realize that it's 1 o'clock in the afternoon and everyone's at lunch, the bank's closed, and all the stores are closed. So what's that old saying? If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!


my mom, also demonstrating how relaxing in Provence can turn into a siesta

 
not a care in the world...