I've got a fat cat

Most mornings I dread hearing those first few notes from my selected ring tone, the one I find the least irritating but have come to passionately loathe nonetheless. The dread was a bit more potent today. When the churchy ding dongs began their digital morning dance I wanted to chuck the phone through the wall. It was take your cat to the vet day. Most normal pet owners probably do this without much chagrin. Me, however, being the daughter of a veterinarian, always end up leaving the clinic feeling like the worst cat mom on the planet. Today, Dr. Costin told me that Bella was overweight and she needed to be switched to prescription diet food. How did I let me child become chubby? To make matters worse Bella looked up at me with those big green eyes and I could tell she was thinking, "how can you humiliate me like this? you're the one who's supposed to be taking care of me and now some stranger is telling me I'm fat, poking needles in me and shoving things up my butt. thanks, mom." I'm sorry kitty. I've failed you.