I debated internally whether or not the topic of today’s post is too bizarre to write about, but after reflecting on some of the other topics I’ve covered, I figure nothing is too random at this point, hence the title of my blog. You get a little bit of everything, my friends, and today’s topic is no different; cat bellies, and yes, you did read that correctly.
I considered the knowledge I will share with you to be common, but given how many people I’ve explained this to who had absolutely no prior concept of it, I figure it is almost necessary to discuss it at this point.
I would wager that almost every single person on this planet who owns a cat has, at one point or another, questioned whether or not their cat is getting a little too chonky. I would again wager that the defining distinction that prompts any cat owner to question their cat’s physical stature is their hanging, swaying belly.
Am I right? If so, I have some news to share with you that just might shift your stance toward your cat’s weight.
Many adult cats have something called a primordial pouch, which, to us mere humans, looks a lot like a beer gut. Their primordial pouch can hang quite low, to the point it sways when they walk or run, and it is fair to figure this pouch is excess fat.
Figure on fat no more, my friends; the purpose of a cat’s primordial pouch is protection. If a cat is attacked, their primordial pouch acts as a cushion, or barrier, around their organs, protecting them from any harm should they meet an aggressive animal. The primordial pouch is actually a defence mechanism, and I imagine it comes in handy when needed.
The opportunity for a cat to actually be overweight is very much a thing, though, so it’s best to be able to draw a firm distinction between pouch and pounds when required.
Photo by Manja Vitolic on Unsplash
ontheedgeofeverything 