Eye Witness Accounts on Exercise

My initial post on this Day 5 of Diabetes Blog week, "Exercise... Not So Much" made me feel lazy. By no means am I lazy and without any activity in my life. I don't want to give out that impression. So, in order to set the record straight (if even in my own head), this Second Post was born. You will see that I do, indeed, get exercise. But please, don't take my word for it. Hear it straight from those in my household who know best... my cat and dog.

The Wise Shadow Cat:

Full disclosure: I'm not a willing participant in this blogging event - I was bribed with tuna, and I firmly believe the keyboard may have been laced with catnip. However, since I'm here, I might as well make some use of it and spread my wisdom... Plus, any other cats (Siah, Siah???) who may be reading as part of "The Plot" for World Domination...

Yes, the Moron who calls himself Daddy sometimes does move around and get exercise. I've witnessed it, sadly. You can't call it very successful exercise, though. You see, he sometimes chases me around the house and tries to capture me. Being a superior being, I am usually able to wisk away and escape without any trouble. There are times he prevails, though... He sometimes traps me in laundry baskets. Or tricks me with rattling bags of treats or tuna containers, much like that Idiot Dog gets all stupidly excited whenever he starts opening a slice of cheese.... He sometimes sneaks up like a Ninja while I'm lounging on the bed and picks me up. These instances are few and far between, because he's slow and not the most coordinated of fellows, but they do happen from time to time. Though I doubt you will, please don't think less of me for this occasional lapse in escape-artistism. You DON'T want to be on my bad side when the cat-pocalypse comes crashing down upon you...

Riley Dog (fondly referred to as the D-Dog):

Hi! My name is Riley. I am a dog. I love my mommy. And my daddy. And you. I love to lick, and be a puppy (even though I'm about 5 years old).

The gray kitten asked me to tell you that yes, daddy does exercise. He LOVES to play with me, and I love to play whenever he's around! Not like the kitten, who just wants to get away and doesn't show any affection unless she's in need of food or a sand box cleaning. Sure, she sometimes does run around the house late at night, chasing some invisible mouse that no one else seems to notice. But whenever daddy wants to chase her, she's just not up for it - that's just plain weird. But NOT ME... I LOVE to play and get exercise!

See those TOYS over there? I will tug on my rope or Motor City Tire Toy like there's no tomorrow! Lately, I've started playing with an odd-shaped frisbee and love tugging on that, too! Whatever works.

Sometimes daddy takes me OUTSIDE (Yay!!!), and somtimes we even go on WALKS! (or, as they call them in trying to trick me: W-A-L-K-S.) I like going outside. Whenever my collar jingles and my leash buckles chime, I get all happy like a kangaroo and bounce up and down with joy. Because I'm a dog. That's what I do.

When I first came to live here, mommy and daddy took me on WALKS more often. But that doesn't happen as much anymore. When we aren't going OUTSIDE or for a WALK, I usually get to go outside and run around when mommy and daddy get home from work. When it's nicer outside and not raining (I don't like rain!), daddy will come outside with me and chase me around the backyard. We don't have a fence, but I know where I am not supposed to go and don't go outside that area - it would be B-A-D. It's fun to run around the backyard, and daddy usually can't catch me because I'm faster than he is. Most of the time, he can actually stand just in the same place and I'll just run circles around him while he makes a move towards me every once in a while to keep me going... I guess that's not really much exercise on his part, but it is for me. And it's fun. It's even more fun when daddy brings out a yellow tennis ball and we get to throw that around and play catch. I really like that, but sometimes I lose the ball under a couch or table and it disappears for a while so we don't get to play. That makes me sad. That's about when I decide to stalk the cat... It passes the time, at least.

So, that's about it.

I think that is all the cat wanted me to tell you. I shouldn't stay any longer, because that might make her mad and we don't want that. Maybe in the meantime, I'll go sniff and see if there's some treats left around until daddy gets home. Or look out the window and see if anyone is coming to see me. Or maybe I'll just rest on that nice comfy bed with a bedspread that mommy and daddy make up JUST FOR ME. Who knows... The day is full of possibility.

Wait... What was that I heard? Did the garage open? Is that a car door?? Who's that? Who's here? Who's at the door?... Someone to see me?????
DADDY!!!!!!!!