Holiday parties,  celebrity events, and a week at sea … what's a girl to do?

Whew, what a week! Between shopping and scheduling in all of the holiday parties I have been invited to, I barely had a moment to breathe or work out as much as I should. Since I won't be in Miami the last week of December -- I'll be cruising with Bart, remember -- I have to choose my social engagements wisely. We don't want any hurt feelings.

For example, every year Corsa hosts Christmas Eve dinner. I have been attending faithfully for five years (nearly my whole life!), and I don't want him to feel that I am blowing him off for Bart ... but, I guess I am. Hey, these celebrity studded week long charity events don't come along everyday; there is even a rumor that Ellen and Portia will be flying down!!! How haute would that be?!?

I stopped by Corsa's flat on Sunday to personally let him know that I would not be at this year's holiday dinner, bearing gifts in the hope that they would make my absence easier to accept.

“I am sorry to hear that you won't be here, Gordi,” he said, the purr never leaving his voice. “We are serving nothing but Halo this year, all in your honor.” He waved his paw and added, “Oh well, I guess it won't kill me to eat healthy for one night.”

Then it hit me like stale cannoli from a Brooklyn Barkery: Corsa was just like Marlon Brando in The Godfather. Not only was he giving me his blessing (ala Don Corleone), but he looked like the Godfather, too. Corsa has always been a big boy, but he has really packed some weight on since even the last time I saw him.

No matter. I used the gifts as a sort of icebreaker -- something that would allow me to give some loving advice. There was the Bolt Laser toy the nice folks at Frolicat had sent to me to test (except dogs don't chase red dots). Maybe, just maybe, it will get Corsa's big butt off the couch. And, of course, I brought a fabulous gift basket of Liv-A-Littles in assorted flavors.

Corsa graciously thanked me for the gifts, but I knew full well he would have preferred some imported caviar and a big bag of catnip! “I'm almost offended, Corsa. The sun must be in your eyes; you haven't even mentioned how amazing I look!” I said in my best Jerry Hall, mock Texas twang, which always makes him giggle.

“But you always look fabulous, darling,” he said. Then, upon closer inspection, his eyes widened. “Why, Gordi, you do look fabulous! Between the Halo and the exercise routines you've transformed. You're absolutely brilliant.”

I smiled inwardly. Was I making headway? “Well,” I said coyly, “I've started a new way of living and it's changed my life completely -- just by changing my diet, Corsa … not that you need to change anything about your appearance—” Corsa waved his paw at me, “Oh, pshaw,” he said, “you know that I know that I need to lose at least a thousand pounds.”

I smiled again, this time outwardly. “Then, Corsa,” I said, “Halo and I have a plan for you too.”

I filled him in on the details of the meal and exercise plan I have been on the last several weeks, and although he made an effort to argue a way out of exercise (based on the fact that he stays indoors), I pointed out that the Bolt would be perfect for boosting his physical time, and it's fun too! Of course, when I described the low-impact Doga classes I go to, he wanted to join in that, so I am going to be giving him private Doga lessons that have been adjusted for the physiology of a cat.

I want Corsa to live forever, and once he heard that he would live an extra 15 years (!) if he got down to his ideal weight, he agreed to my plan immediately. I admit I fudged on that one, because pets at their ideal weight really live 15 percent longer, but hey, but whatever works!

Next week: I'm taking the inaugural Pet Airways flight from Ft. Lauderdale to New York to do some last minute holiday shopping in Manhattan. Wish me good hunting!