So another bucket list entry was about to be checked off. Annie or Dead Annie as she liked to be called was slowly reaching her goal weight of 600 pounds.

Annie had dropped a lot of weight prior to her death, she was skinny and almost boney. Dead Annie, began her mission to change all of that ‘stat’; a new word she had begun using. I raised my eyebrow when she said it because my mother used that word and it was so annoying. She was a switchboard operator at a hospital and when she announced ‘stat’ everybody obeyed her orders. So naturally her saying stat at home should get the same results; now Dead Annie who was  not a switchboard operator or in any way, ‘in charge’, was using the word stat.

“I need a donut, stat,”, “no I am not waiting 30 minutes for a pizza, you deliver it stat,”,”Duh-Wayne, Spam, Slam, Mary Jane…stat stat stat.” Life was awful.

At first, she merely filled out and went to her normal weight of a solid, not really fat, 12 pounds. Then a pudgy 25, then a fat 50.

At 75 pounds, she out weighed the dog but was still able to get on her feet but not for long.  On to a hundred and then two, then three, no longer was she able to stand she simply rolled from one room to another looking very much like Violet turning into a blueberry.

Dead Annie would giggle from her princess bed, “I can see the lympodema growing in my tail, Slam.”   Her tail was disgusting, having large fatty growths all down her tail so many in fact it she was barely able to lift it.

She panted when she talked and needed oxygen twenty-four hours a day.   For a while she was able to  wash herself laughing and yelling, “I wash myself with a rag on a stick,” marking that accomplishment off her long bucket list.    Now, she needed someone to take care of her.

That was my job, washing her, changing her bed pads and depends which we had to order online.  Getting diapers for your dead cat who weighs almost 600 lbs is not easy, and one diaper filled an entire garbage bag.

“Annie,” I yelled at her.  “This weight is killing you.   Your heart stops every other hour.”

“I’m already dead, Slam.” Annie panted as I tried to get beneath her fat rolls to wipe her butt.

“This lifting you around is killing me, Annie.” I replied.

“Well you could have been in charge of feeding me but you wanted me to eat that fool lettuce and cottage cheese.”

Just then Duh-Wayne wandered in coming back from a trip to an all night fast food joint because Dead Annie needed a mightnight snack at 2 am.   He had a pile of cheese burgers, 2 gallons of moose made, and a dozen sundae’s with a sprinkle of mouse tails.   Grandfather was right behind him with several dozen blood filled donuts, a feed bag full of pork rinds and a 50 pound cheese wheel.

I groaned, her diet of fast food made her go to the bathroom more often and with the amount of food she ate it seemed like she was going twenty four hours a day.   In fact it was so bad , I had to wear a gas mask and face shield because Annie delighted in screaming,  ‘Here’s poop in your eye Slam,” as she would push down really hard and spray poop all over my face.   The only upside to this, if you consider it an upside was that Annie’s poop factory had increased production 1 million percent.

The day Annie sucessfully hit six hundred pounds there was a sense of jubliation in the atmosphere.   Annie had a huge party.   All her friends came to re-enforce the floor underneath her.   Annie had a huge buffet set up that would easily feed two thousand people with left overs, she ordered one large cheese pizza for her friends and they partied and ate all night long because the following day Annie would make the call to start her weight loss journey.

Once again a camera crew invaded our home, as Annie described her eating habits and rapidly chomped her way through a plethora of food with loud smacking noises; filling up the first half hour of her tv debut.   She called a Dr. Later in Houston a vet specializing in large size animals needing weight loss.

It was one of the few times I was happy that Annie had a teleporter.   I really didn’t want to drive all the way to Houston or try to get a six hundred pound cat down the stairs into our car which she wouldn’t have fit in.   I did have to push her into the doctors office in an oversized wheel barrow however, Duh-Wayne went with us but his back was way too out of whack to even consider pushing her in.

Annie was delighted to see she had gained another 50 pounds since her party but she was honestly ready to loose her weight since her goal was met.   Dr. Later, a badger with crazy hair and an accent, told her she needed to get a lower calorie diet and exercise.  He allowed her 12 thousand calories a day and to decease it as her weight began to come off.  He said she needed to loose one pound over the next month.

Of course, Annie gained weight the first month, lost a half a pound the second month and with the threat of discontinuing the treatment by the third month Annie got on track and lost the first pound.

She had begun to exercise as well laying; on her back and moving her legs like she was running.   It was sort of comical.   By the time she had lost 50 pounds she felt she was able to sit in a wheel chair and go for walks.

Annie picked a route to walk complete with a hill.   It was a mile and a half, through the absolute worst area of our town, at 4:30 am because Annie did not want people seeing her as fat as she was.   It never even dawned on her that most of the free World or anyone who had access to her AnnieTV channel would see her anyway.  She was  quite popular in South East Asia.

Annie never walked the walks.   I did; pushing her in her wheelchair the entire way.   She would be panting by the time I started pushing her up the hill.  Duh-Wayne would be slowly bringing up the rear putt putt putting up the hill behind us on his scooter with the leaky back tire.

Annie had recently purchased a scooter which would support her 600 pound size, she named it flower and wrapped it in flower contact paper and attached ribbons and a big flag that said FAT CATS RULE.   She and Aunt Paulie started a business decorating scooters, canes, wheel chairs, IV poles and all kinds of medical equipment to make it festive.   Annie’s had a commode that filled the air with stinky confetti when you tinkled in it.

But Flower never went on our walks.   Annie said she got a better work out when I pushed her.   She liked the putt putt sound though so she expelled gas almost the whole way and at least twice she would need a diaper change and she no longer fit on one of those baby changing table not that any place was open at that time of the morning.

We always had to walk through the thrift store parking lot because Annie loved joining in with the rest of the regulars, going through the dumpsters and rescuing a rainsoaked stuffed animal or a handleless soup pot or a flea infested worn out run of carpet.  Annie always found an orange moo-moo, or a rotted piece of wood she could turn into treasure, or some other splendid piece of americanna as she called it.

Over a time lasped 5 months, Annie, Duh-Wayne and I took these walks almost every day.   Well, I walked.   Annie had a large boom box she carried on what was left of her lap.   Duh-Wayne had a large speaker in a wagon he pulled with his scooter.

Annie played rap music, really loud and never ever the edited version.   She claimed since we were in the hood, we had to carry ourselves properly.  By listening to Lil Jon, and T Pain, E40, and Petey Pablo, we’d get our thug walk on and everyone would know we were ‘G’s’.   She made us stuff our pants so it looked like we were packing a piece.   In that way we would be safe.

I was sure no one would bother us.   They would be afraid of us.   A 600 pound cat in a wheel chair  being pushed up a hill by a woman wearing a cat hat.   Annie insisted I wear a cat hat so people would believe she and I were related, she claimed it was magical.   And Duh-Wayne bringing up the rear also in a cat hat dragging the speaker and Annie’s oxygen tank behind him.   Both of them, screaming “Dance with the Dawgs in the Nighttime,” along with Migos the song they had to play on the way up the hill.   Annie loved that song because it was about her favorite food stir fry!

And over time, Annie became friends with ‘the morning people’ as she called them.  The old guy who had a cleaning service and pushed a shopping cart around with broom, dust pan, mop, feather duster and other supplies around town, or ones slowly making their way home from the bars, or those looking for change which the ones making their way home from the bars lost, or the truck loads of contracted workers we walked past heading into their job at the poop factory.   The lady headed out for a morning coffee and a piece of pecan pie, wearing a pair of slacks and a slip.   The elder on a bike wearing two hospital gowns one on top one on bottom.

It was an intresting time and I grew a lot of leg muscle.   By the time cold weather came, Annie had lost 324 pounds and she was ready to be back to normal, so she had lipo-suction to get rid of the rest.   She was finally back to a more normal 20 pounds.

The only problem was, Annie had saggy skin, so saggy in fact she was unable to walk, so Duh-Wayne had to pull it all up into a rubber band which he secured at the top of her head.   Annie wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep it or maybe later do a follow up reality show called, “Where is the skin now?”

It was on her bucket list so who was she fooling.   I knew it would come at some point.   I kept up with the walks every day…it was my quiet time.   As I easily walk the hill now I can hear Annie screaming, “Dance with my dawgs in the night time.”







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