Remind Me Again Why I Have Cats

Spike

2011-02-28T20:56:00.000-06:00

Spike isn't feeling well.

It started last Thursday? Friday? with the appearance of a wound on his face, above his right eye, below his right ear. We're not sure where it came from. He's either outside in the kennel or in the house. It's not the kind of injury sustained from a spat with his siblings. It's possible he was stung by a bee or fire ant (the bees are out and about, and there are some ants trying to make a nest around the kennel, though I keep trying to discourage this).

As usual, cats being cats, they'd rather worry the wounded places to pieces, rather than leave them alone. If one of the girls isn't licking it, another one is doing same. Putting anything topical on it only results in him washing at it excessively. That has made the wound bigger- a scabby, bald patch about the size of a nickel. Now that it's scabbed over and healing enough that we don't feel the need to medicate it, he's acting as if it bothers him, squinting his eye, ducking his head...

Come to think of it, I noticed some odd "freckling" on his nose the day before this began. I wonder if maybe he really did get bitten by ants- more than a few times?

Anyway, yesterday he threw up after eating his dinner. Not unusual. At least one of the cats does this almost weekly. Spike, in particular, because he swallows his food whole. He did go through the motions of vomiting earlier that afternoon, before he was to be fed, so nothing came up because his tummy was empty. That happens, too. Stomach acid builds up in an empty tummy and becomes unbearable.

This morning he threw up, but, again, as his tummy was empty from not digesting his meal the night before, it was just fluid. I couldn't tell if it was just digestive juices, or water, but he drank a bunch of water after that and kept it down so...

I just kept an eye on him all day. He mostly sat in the same place and dozed. He's responsive. He likes attention. He eventually walked to the back door and expressed an interest in going outside in the kennel with the girls. He was NOT, however, his usual, pain-in-the-ass self. He didn't sit at the pantry door all day, demanding someone feed him with his incessant meowing. He didn't follow me everywhere, demanding to be taken outside with his incessant meowing.

DH didn't see any of this until he came home this evening, so he's pretty worried. Particularly after he fed the cats their daily rations and Spike ate half of it and threw it up. Spike seemed the same to me when I got home from the gym. Still sitting in the spot he's warmed all day, responsive to petting and attention. He even got up and raced to the kitchen with the rest of the crew when I got out the can of whipped cream (everybody likes to have a taste). He didn't eat any, but he was definitely alert and interested. I gave him a teaspoon of plain, homemade yogurt later, and he sure perked up for that! I gave it to him for the good bacteria in it. We're thinking that his constant washing of his wound maybe gave him a bacterial infection. Plus it will coat his tummy. He's kept it down, so I guess we'll just continue to watch him. All of the cats are due for their annual vet visit next month so if we have to take him in it's no big deal...

Dear Spike,

2010-02-03T12:42:00.002-06:00

Cats have 432 taste buds.
This is 1/3 the amount of taste buds that dogs have.

Cats cannot taste sweet things. They do not possess the receptors or taste buds necessary to recognize "Sweet".

Explain to me again why you refuse to stay out of the kitchen, are constantly underfoot when cooking, getting yourself stepped on, tripping me, pissing me off and scavenging on the kitchen counter the minute I walk out the front door?

You opportunistic little shit! You SUCK!

What do you get when...

2009-11-28T17:42:00.000-06:00

...you leave town at noon on Wednesday, returning home Friday evening after having only left four cats at home for the requisite two days that they have proven they can be left unsupervised without causing global chaos (three days is just too long; they are also well-versed in staying home alone and have done so successfully for the 8 years they've managed to remain alive)?

Some feline genius decided it would be just brilliant to attempt to leap to the top of the washing machine.

This great feat involves navigating a few obstacles-
like the two cat crates resting atop a towel atop the washing machine,
and the laundry basket of dirty towels stacked on top of that (because there is just no space in this 600sq. ft. apartment, and stuff has to be piled somewhere, and the utility close is it),
meanwhile the litter box is on the floor in front of the washing machine, and the dryer (piled with other stuff) is behind that.

Thus, the attempted leap resulted in some feline genius grasping frantically at the towel at the bottom of the stack, which resulted in pulling everything down, where it all landed atop the litter box.

Where do you suppose they pooped and peed after that?

They're so brilliant they attempted to continue to pee where the litter box would be, under all that stuff.

One cat's bowl was also broken in the process.
Once upon a time I had four porcelain cat food bowls that were made to match my dinnerware.
Over the years, hasty, greedy bastards have knocked these bowls about, resulted in a few chips and cracks.
If only it were one of the damaged ones that was broken in half during the Great Thanksgiving Utility Room Avalanche of 2009, but noooo! They had to go and break the pristine one.

And then while I was cleaning up the mess and attempting to kindheartedly feed the bastards, even though I felt they deserved NO DINNER WHAT SO EVER!, somebody though that it was a good time to climb up my leg, causing me to drop and break a second bowl.

At this point, I was tempted to begin hurling pottery at any furry creature under knee-height.

In my opinion, if we're down two bowls, we need to rid ourselves of two cats.

Top 10 Reasons to Adopt a Black Cat

2009-10-10T11:15:00.000-05:00

Top 10 Reasons to Adopt a Black Cat
Courtesy of Web of Life Animal Outreach, Chesapeake, VA

10. You'll save $$ on their Halloween costumes.

9. You can always find them in the snow.

8. Holding a black cat is very slimming.

7. Black cats will match any décor.

6. A lint brush isn't required for a black-tie affair.

5. When you love a black cat, luck is on your side.

4. Black cats are like onyx, a beautiful gem.

3. Hey, they don't care what color YOU are!

2. Love knows no color.

And the No. 1 reason to adopt a black cat......

They are the least likely to be adopted.

(Happy Meow-lloween!)

PSA- National Feral Cat Day

2009-10-10T11:13:00.000-05:00

National Feral Cat Day, started by Alley Cat Allies in 2001, is celebrated by thousands of people across the U.S. who participate in fundraisers, adoption events, or spay/neuter drives in order to draw attention to the special needs of stray and feral cats.

According to Becky Robinson, president of Alley Cat Allies, "Many Americans don't really know what a ‘feral cat' is, but they know they've seen them around, because feral cats exist in every community, from urban to rural."

"Feral cats are a bit of mystery - because they are wary of humans, they may be hidden out in plain sight and living ‘in the shadows.' Feral cats are members of the domestic cat species like pet cats, but they are fearful of humans and can't be adopted. When they are taken to animal shelters, they are almost always killed there," she said.

"Feral cats live healthy, quality lives outdoors, but there are ways to make their lives even better, including programs like Trap-Neuter-Return," said Robinson. "National Feral Cat Day is a great opportunity to learn more about feral cats and why Trap-Neuter-Return is best for the cats and the community."

For a list of local events or to find out more visit National Feral Cat Day.
Visit Get informed for information about feral cats.
Find Feral Cat Services near you

Important Alert!

2009-05-17T12:39:00.001-05:00

House Bill 3180 proposes limiting the number of dogs a person may own in the state of Texas within and surrounding counties containing at least one million people.

Even if you live in rural Texas, a law such as this could potentially effect you and your dogs, should it come to pass. If a person lives in a county where the population is at least one million residents, this law could regulate or specify how many dogs a person is allowed to own.

While enforcing such a law would be difficult and rely on any neighbors complaining to the proper authorities about the number of dogs you may have, the bill is already posing a serious threat.

As it is presently worded, it would affect responsible, legitimate breeders and pet owners, instead of just the intended target- puppy mills, puppy farmers and "people who own at least one intact female and produce 20 litters in one calendar year".

We all agree, puppy mills are a serious issue, and currently the state of Texas has no legislature at all regarding this subject (of course not, this is Texas, where there is also no legislature preventing the owning of exotic animals as pets, or the selling of tiger cubs in the Wal-Mart parking lot, for crying out loud!). I am not opposed to legislature regarding the regulation of or prevention of puppy mills. I only want to make sure such legislature doesn't also accidentally and adversely affect responsible pet owners like myself, and legitimate dog breeders. Regulating the number of animals a person is allowed to own does nothing for the overall welfare of dogs already in existence in the state of Texas. Bills like this only continue to thwart and frustrate those of us who have always done our best to abide by the rules, behave responsibly, raise well-behaved animals and strive to set a good example for others in the community to follow.

How can we let the government decide how many pets we can/can't have, tell us HOW we can/can't have them, etc... when the same government currently does nothing regarding the issue of exotic pets in this state? It has already been said that each level of law enforcement is hesitant to take responsibility for such issues, and expects the one higher up to be the "bad guy". Most local law enforcement does not have the means to handle such problems and most also are deterred by property owners arguing their property rights. Legislature is already NOT being enforced, why do we need more of it? Stronger laws are not going to make a difference. People MUST STEP UP!

Please take a moment to review your state's current proposed bills and contact your state governor's office accordingly.

You can also sign up to receive notification of legislative alerts in your area.

In the state of Texas, please go to http://governor.state.tx.us/contact/
select "I am registering my opinion" and click "submit".
Then fill out the pertinent information, state your stance on the issues regarding HB 3180 (you can even copy, paste and fill out the handy sample letter the AKC's aforementioned website provides), and make your voice heard.

This bill still needs some serious rewriting, retooling and reconsideration before it is going to be sufficient and a workable solution.

April: Be Kind to Animals Month

2009-04-03T13:02:00.002-06:00

Lucky for me, I have feline demon spawn, and they are not classified as animals.

Animals wouldn't stoop so low as to get up on the stove (which I have discovered is where SOMEBODY has been standing, and spraying the side of the refrigerator... at least I finally located the source of the odor DH claims he can't smell...), mere minutes after being caught atop said stove and applied with consequences accordingly, and knock over and break a coffee mug. One of those that coordinates with the pottery I picked out as wedding gifts.

I hate it when these creatures break my shit!

I once laughed at a woman for whom I used to babysit, when she declared her kids were no longer allowed to watch Tom & Jerry. "101 ways to kill a cat", she labeled it. They'd just gotten a kitten.

I hereby rewrite my "That's ridiculous. Nobody gets that idea from that show." opinion to include "Ok, ok... perhaps it does plant seeds that don't reach maturity until a person is in her 30s..."

All I want to do, anymore, is throw every pot, pan and piece of pottery at these monsters.

Particularly when I find it all askew or on the floor because they have been atop counters and appliances they well know NOT to set foot on.

When they were kittens, they were this much trouble.
They were so bad I prayed for them to turn two and settle down.

Years two to six were for years of bliss.

Years six and seven have been absolute HELL.

Year eight had better bring about radical change, I have already caught myself making threats along the lines of
"THERE'S AN INTERSTATE RIGHT OUTSIDE WITH YOUR NAME ON IT!"

Not to mention overhearing myself make the statement "They go, or I go" to my husband.

From now on, all 4 of them are getting crated when I leave the apartment.

That's just pathetic, too. What kind of cat are you that you can't be-damn-have?! I shouldn't have to resort to this. Feliway is having absolutely no effect on them, for the first time ever.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

2009-02-24T10:00:00.001-06:00

To Whom it May Concern,

I have two pets microchipped with the AVID FriendChip and PETtrac products. As a customer and consumer, and one who relocates almost yearly, I am constantly updating the address associated with my pets' microchips. I do this by mailing in copies of the registration/address change form that I recieved upon initially microchipping my pets. Most of the time I recieve no confirmation that my address has been updated, though my $6.00 personal check always clears the bank.

As I am planning yet another move, it is time once again for me to update my pets' residential addresses with PETtrac. An extensive search of the internet has provided me with some interesting information and given me cause to ask AVID/PETtrac a few questions:

It seems that both the UK and Canada branches of PETtrac not only supply downloadable, printable registration/address change forms via PDF, but also offer their customers the added feature of updating such information online. Candada even makes these features available FOR FREE! Not to mention the UK offers PETtrac Plus, which has a one time fee that then allows the consumer to update address information at no charge.

Why is it that consumers in the US aren't privy to such benefits?

I have no more copies of the appropriate forms on hand, and my only option (in addition to updating my physical location with my veterinary office) is to call AVID's 800-number in order to ensure that my pets, should they ever be separated from me, are returned to the appropriate location.

It is frustrating, as a consumer trying to do right by her pets, to be unable to make use of the modern conveniences other countries have in place.

Dissention in the Ranks

2009-01-06T15:25:00.003-06:00

Am I ever sick of this shit.

I know that we are in a small space, and that living on top of each other means there will be skirmishes.

I also know that living in an all-tile house means this house holds a certain chill on cold days- no matter what.

Even though I have plenty of warm, soft crates, nest beds, spare beds, throw pillows, etc... somehow the area rugs and the dogs' beds become prime real estate.

The cats aren't allowed on the dogs' beds, so they're constantly being shoo-ed off.
The dogs pick up on this.
I want them to pick up on this.
I want them to stand up for themselves and order the cats off their beds on their own-
so that I don't have to. They nose the cats as it is, why not just give them a gentle shove? Hell, I wouldn't even mind a growl if that did the trick.

Instead, the dogs come and plant themselves in front of me, and whine petulantly until I do something about it.

And somehow -it doesn't matter if I try to firmly but gently discourage the cats, or give them an all out scolding- all this does (it seems, of late) is create animosity on the dogs' end.

I realize the dogs (Kansas, in particular) have picked up on my issues with the cats of late.
I remember that, back when we all used to live in other small places, on top of each other, I always relied upon and allowed the dogs to help control the cats. That shouldn't be any different.
Yes, I intervene when things get out-of-hand, or when I think the lesson has been learned, but for the most part, I feel the cats should bow to the dogs and I don't care that the cats are older or were here first. I consider my dogs an extension of me, they know my rules and they help keep them.

Particularly since the cats are so hell-bent on ignoring the rules these days.

What I don't get is why, in the past week, Tess and Kansas have decided to take issue with each other.

Tess is a royal pain in the ass.
She WILL NOT either stay IN, or stay OUT these days.
Wherever she is, she is CONSTANTLY meowing at you for whatever it is she wants that she thinks you absolutely MUST DO RIGHT THEN.
Open the door,
open the other door,
feed me, even though it's not time.
Can't put herself in the damn litter box.
Won't find a place to settle down and be quiet.
It never ends!

Particularly the "won't find a place to settle down and shut the hell up!" part.

Opportunistic little bitch queen.

Spike, Leila and Macie are quite content to all pile into ONE nest bed (when there are 3 right there, side-by-side), on top of the bed (covered with a quilt AND a blanket) and sleep there
ALL DAY!

Tess will not settle down anywhere.
She refuses to lie on the spare bed at all.
She absolutely refuses to occupy any space near any of the other cats at all.
If any of them comes near her, she has a hissing, spitting, growling FIT- and I've observed this particular charade enough to realize that nobody's doing anything to her. It's all HER!
I used to reprimand the other kitty, because mostly it was Spike and I really thought he was bullying her.
Nope.
It's just her.

So for the past couple of days, when Kansas and Leo and whatever other cats are all piled up on the couch with me, Tess hops up on to the couch-

and Kansas snaps at her.

At first, I was correcting Kansas, and making EVERYONE get off the couch.
Because it's MY couch.
Not theirs.
I am the human, the owner, the mommy. I am their GOD
and I CONTROL ACCESS TO ALL THINGS that they are PRIVILEGED to use.

Kansas also snapped at Spike another time, when he poked his head up like he was going to get up on the couch.
I don't really care if she does that, I've been having enough other problems with him that I know she's picked up on and I really think she's trying to help. She is a herding dog, after all. She knows the rules and knows the cats by name and has always helped enforce the rules.
Or maybe she thought he was Tess?
She snapped at Leila once, but she was dead asleep and Leila came up and started licking her ear.
Spike tends to bite Kansas on the ear, so I can understand... or am I rationalizing and making excuses?
I don't see the dogs as the problem.

Particularly not after last night, when I on purpose put Kansas AND Tess up on the couch with me. It was going well. Kansas was laid back, relaxed, eyes half closed, ears flopped over.
And then I noticed her locked in a staredown with Tess.
That's when I realized Tess was probably sitting there, glaring at Kansas - the same way she does all of the other cats before she starts her hissing, spitting, unnecessary fits.
I made them both get off the couch, and put Tess in her crate.

Where she proceeded to meow, and meow, and meow, and meow...
*sigh*
*roll eyes*

Why can't she just be happy, damnit?!

I think I can pinpoint at least part of the problem.
I've had this problem before.
It takes a while, but eventually, whichever cat I feed first gets the idea he/she is the Top Cat, and that always causes problems.
I can't free feed them, for alot of reasons, but mostly because if I do 3 of them get too fat and Macie becomes skin-and-bones.

Macie takes the longest to eat, because she licks up her food instead of chewing it.
The others gorge until they puke, and nobody self-regulates.

I have to feed them all in separate crates or separate areas of the house, because whomever finishes first then goes and forces somebody else out of the way and eats their share, as well.

I used to feed the slower eaters first, so that they'd be finished by the time the gobblers finished and went in search of food to steal.
But that caused problems between EVERYBODY.
I don't feed Tess first on purpose (and I feed the cats AFTER I feed the dogs, so they get the right idea of where they are in line), I do it to shut her the hell up!
For a while, she was getting canned food, and nobody else was, because I was trying to see if it helped her bladder issues at all. I think it did, but she's also better and I didn't buy any more when I ran out over two weeks ago, now, so while I can see where that would make her feel "special" I can't understand why it's suddenly an issue NOW when there's no special food being given out.
If I start feeding Leila first, then she and Tess start to fight amongst each other -
and pee on everything.
If I feed Spike first, he's going to become even more of a tyrant than he already is.

I don't dare feed Macie first.
She seems to be the only one content with her status and life.
I don't want her upset unnecessarily.
I don't want to force her into a role she doesn't want.
Plus, she's another female and I have enough issues between females at the moment.

I'm going to have to try and feed the other 3 on a rotating schedule- somebody different every time, I guess.

As for Tess and Kansas, I am going to try my best to let Kansas drive that lesson home, as I allowed her to do with Spike way back when.
Particularly after what just happened:

The dogs and I were in the backyard, playing.
Tess was doing her best to get in the way and demand to be let in the back door.
I didn't want her in, so I was ignoring her.
She did come in when the rest of us were ready to go back indoors.

I got the dogs each one of their frozen treats, which they usually get after being outside and active.

Kansas eats hers on the hall rug, one bite at a time.
Leo gulps his.

Tess decided to investigate what Kansas had, and this time Kansas really did give her what for.
I was washing dishes, so all I know of it is Kansas barked a protest/warning, Tess obviously ignored it (and maybe expressed an opinion of her own), I heard Kansas snap at her, and then there was a "chase the kitty" stampede, that Leo tried to join in.
Tess ran under the table, and that's when I called a timeout and put her back outside.

I didn't address the dogs at all.
I wasn't there to see what happened, so I can't referee or rule on what may have been right or wrong.

I also have to support my dog if she feels like she has been wronged.
I'm not going to have her tyrannized by an opportunistic bitch.
I hope she learned her lesson, because I am sick of this shit.
I'm also afraid she's starting to act more like Spike.
Great. Just what I need. Two of them.

DH keeps telling me to hang in there and to remember that everyone's a bit stressed from him being there for 2 weeks, from the weather being unstable, and because there are so many of us in such a small space.
I told him if they are going to start acting like this because they are all older (since we didn't have these problems the FIRST SEVEN YEARS), then we need to re-think how many pets (cats in particular) we have.
He just keeps telling me that it will get better when we move.

Oh, gee... didn't we just almost move, only for him to change his mind and subject me to two more months of this?

Why can't everyone just do what they've always done and what they're expected to do?
She never used to act like she was the only pet present in this household!
I don't want to have to change their damn feeding order every time somebody gets too big for their britches.

Why can't she just get the message?

Why does everything I try to do get taken the wrong way?

I know I'm not the most stable leader at the moment and I can see where that is causing problems, but still... creatures of habit are so reliable... until they're not.

A Pet's Ten Commandments

2008-12-29T19:30:00.000-06:00

A PET'S TEN COMMANDMENTS.........

1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.

3. Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.

4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.

5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.

7. Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.

8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.

9. Please take care of me when I grow old. You too, will grow old.

10. On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.

Stupid Spike

2008-12-14T18:42:00.002-06:00

Spike spent all day in his crate, after spending all of last night in it.
I had alot to do this morning, and had to leave the house early and on-time because we were going to do the Christmas thing with the grandparents on one side of the family.

I got ready and got out the door early, put the dogs in the car, came back to lock the front door, remembered I hadn't put on earrings, went inside to do so, and stupid Spike was ALREADY IN THE KITCHEN SINK!

I can't leave for 5 minutes, apparently.

He was drinking water out of the cast iron skillet I had just put in to soak.

I'd even made sure I sprayed my "keep off!" spray, before heading out the door!

I already can't leave the house without making sure to wipe down every single countertop AND the stove, and realized I also have to rinse both drains, because neither of them has a garbage disposal, and the cats will climb into the sink and eat whatever leftover wet, gooey food bits are sticking to the drain plug or the drain itself.
This takes alot of time.

What pisses me off the most is that I can't leave my house for any period of time without one (or more) of the four of them breaking something, wrecking something, getting into something they aren't supposed to, going where they shouldn't be going, etc...

He couldn't even get himself out of the sink, and made no attempt to hide or flee.
Just stared at me like "Damn. Busted."
I really wanted to pound him with the skillet.
It was all I could just to grab him and have the presence of mind to hurry him down the hall and toss him in his crate before I lost my temper.

I am sick of this fucking shit.
I am going to have to start locking up the ones I don't put out every time I leave the house-
that's just not right! Why are they suddenly misbehaving so badly?!

Toileting Troubles

2008-12-14T18:30:00.002-06:00

Tess.
She's had issues this year with bladder infections, incontinence and what the vet describes as a stress-induced inflammation that mimics bladder infections and can flare up any time anything upsets her.

Anything.
Visitors.
Moving.
Dissention in the ranks.
Anything.

Unless she is asleep, she cannot go five minutes without making a desperate, mad dash to the litter box.

In and out, in and out, in and out.
Squeezing out a drop or two every time.
Littering my floor with... litter...

I think part of her problem is litter box confusion.
She sleeps in there, plays hide-and-seek in there, as often as she uses it for a potty.

I can't crate her at night without her messing in her crate, yet she can sleep all day on the couch without getting up to relieve herself even once.

I've changed her food several times.
I think I finally hit on something that is working.
That and I just keep her crate lined with newspaper.
I tried putting a litter box in there, but she either sleeps in it, or misses it completely when she goes.
I have to crate her, because she's so lazy that if I am not watching her (because I am asleep) she will pee on whatever rug she's chosen to bed down upon for the night, rather than taking her lazy bum ass to the litter box. I have washed tiny pee spots from all of our rugs several times- usually when Leila notices they smell like pee and then proceeds to spray the door, the turtle tank, the paper shredder- because she thinks Tess is marking in the house.

I also keep her outside as much as possible, after the week where she would pee puddles wherever without even trying to. She wouldn't squat, and she wasn't standing like she was about to spray, she'd just attempt to jump up on the furniture and pee would fall out of her.

Alas, keeping her outside has only taught her that the world is her toilet.
She won't pick just one spot, she takes a few steps wherever, squats at will, and goes on.
In my flowerbeds, which are by the front door.
Not pleasant to smell when you're entering/exiting the house.
I have spent more time and energy keeping her out of my plants...
She also goes in several places in the backyard.
The dogs have had great fun taking daily snack tours, thanks to this.
She could just hop over the fence and do it in the empty lot behind us, but noooo!
I get to clean up after ill doggies, because wherever Tess goes, the neighborhood cats also decide is a good communal toilet and then I don't know who's sick with what, who's eaten what, etc... and my dogs are eating it all!

Only now that the weather is changing, miss thang seems to think she should be entitled to hanging out inside again. She's really bratty and demand-y whenever she wants to go in or out and will not shut up and give you a moment's peace until you comply. The only plus side to keeping her in is that then nobody is pottying in my backyard, so nobody is eating poop and throwing it up.

She drinks the water that's outside for the dogs just fine.
I tried keeping extra water out front for her, as well, but it only brings the neighbor cats to my door... apparently the neighbors that put out tons of food for any cats willing to eat it don't also put out water, so all thirsty cats camp out at my place... Yay.
She still makes more-than-occasional loud demands to be let in- for the sole purpose of drinking water and then bellowing at me to let her back out.

I Can't Win

2008-12-13T19:54:00.003-06:00

If I let you out, the next door neighbors feed you, and you also gorge yourselves at the across-the-street neighbor's house- she keeps food on her porch for any and all wandering felines and refils it at least twice a day... if not three times a day. Then you get fat and the vet yells at me for it. Plus, none of you know how to self-regulate and INSIST on gorging yourselves until you puke, and then re-consume that, and gorge and puke some more...

Not to mention you go out and eat grass so that you can puke on purpose.

On top of that, you hunt, and bring infested things into my yard, and give yourself worms and puke, puke, puke some more.

If I keep you in, you screech at me all goddamn day to let you out, and when I won't you bend, break, tear up and otherwise damage all of the blinds in this house that isn't ours because you won't fucking stay out of the fucking windows.

I put toys down for you.
You ignore them, opting, instead, to play hide-and-seek in the cabinets and sharpen your claws on my shelf liner (that was expensive, damnit, and it's there for a reason. The shelves are really UGLY and old) instead of on the scratching post that IS YOURS!

You have FOUR nest beds, FOUR crates and an entire twin bed in the spare room overlooking the open windows and big backyard AND the turtle tank -for your entertainment! ...yet you opt to sleep on MY bed, or the dogs' beds, or the furniture that I don't want you on!

I can't even list all of the things of MINE that you've chewed up or broken this year thanks to you being up on countertops, tables and shelves where you dont't belong!

None of this is new! It's not rocket science! We have the SAME RULES and the SAME FURNISHINGS we've always had! There is no reason for this! This is an outrage!

I am the one who has tried really, really hard to compromise here.
I don't know who you are, but you aren't the cats I raised.
You're possessed by some goddamn disrespectful heathens!

Muahahahaha!

2008-12-13T12:59:00.002-06:00

I finally did it, you crazy fuckers!
I finally held my breath, tiptoed down the baby needs aisle and picked up a package of cabinet/drawer security tabs!

Why the geniuses that plan and stock the store don't make these available in the HARDWARE section, for those of us who are childless, I don't know.

Otherwise, I'd have gotten these much sooner.

I could put 'em on myself, or you and I can continue this dance for another week & make your daddy install them when he gets here.

Get ready for some change, bitches!

Oh, and that awful smell? Learn to fear it.
It's the smell of the "keep out of my damn windows" repellent.

Cats- 2 Squirrels- 0; Lots and lots of crap.

2008-10-12T20:44:00.004-05:00

This afternoon, I let the dogs out the back door so they could relieve themselves.
They made a beeline around the corner and into their bright blue bucket-beds.

They never go in there.

Next thing I know, Kansas has a mouthful of something and I am (as usual) yelling at her
"NO! Leave it! Drop it!"

She does.

"It" was the head, shoulders, arms and torso of a rather vacant-eyed squirrel.

Tess was "hiding" inside the bucket-beds eating it.
From the bottom up. I wonder if she ate the feet...? or where they went...?

Now I don't mind if she wants to kill squirrels.
This is the second instance of such, and now at least we know who the culprit is.
The squirrels drive me batty. Well, ok, it's the squirrels that taunt the dogs and the dogs that tear around the backyard leaping up at the squirrels that drive me batty.

But can she at least eat them on the other side of the fence?
Geez! There's a whole forest back there, with plenty of space and privacy.
For God's sake don't bring the damn things onto the back porch!
And while we're on the subject, do your pooping on the other side of that fence, too, for cryin' out loud! I am sick of dogs running around MY backyard scarfing down piles of cat shit.
I'm also sick of walking up to my own front door and realizing the flower beds on either side of it smell like cat shit.
And the front yard- cat shit, cat shit, cat shit.
I realize that the lack of rain makes the soil sandy and loose and just so... and that everyone else surrounding me has yards with grass of some sort, but PLEASE! Don't crap at your own house! and don't let your neighbor cats crap here, either!

I finally managed the not-so-small feat of getting the dogs away from the half-squirrel, getting them back INTO the house, keeping Tess from making off with the half-squirrel while I went inside to get a trash bag to pick it up with, and got it in the trash.
Normally, I'd have just tossed it over the back fence, but I had a feeling it would just find it's way back to my porch again.

DH was sitting just inside the back window the whole time, hearing my yelling, swearing, etc... and didn't even lift a finger. He did finally ask "What's going on?" and remarked "Yuck."
and that was all.

Vet Visit

2008-05-27T22:16:00.002-05:00

It now costs as much to take two cats to the vet as it does to fill the gas tank.

Me & the 4 demon felines headed to the vet today for routine yearly exams/vaccinations.

Ok, ok... so they haven't been in about two years...

We do pretty damn good, though, all things considered.

We are now in complete awe and adoration of Dr. Grace, the latest veterinary school graduate (May 8th) who moved here to our favorite practice not two weeks ago. She loves it here and is enjoying her job very much.

She is also the most informative, thorough vet we've ever seen.
Not to mention she could almost be the long-lost (ok, taller) twin of a good friend of mine...
I wanted to take her home with me.

She spent alot of time fussing over each cat, complimenting them, checking every possible thing there was to check- and she LISTENED TO ME!

Spike and Leila both have a bit of tartar buildup that's causing some gingivitis, which, she explained, can result from an allergy to the tartar. They should have a dental cleaning within the next 3 months... I don't know, though... I've never had any dental work done on any of my critters. Ever... will have to see what DH and the budget say about this.

Macie has a bit of an allergy- to something. Apparently she's now been scratching at that area between her ear and eyebrow, and has made it a bit bare and scabby. We can put her on an antihistamine if it gets worse, but she's not worried about it and neither am I.

Tess is fine- the place on her tail that she brought home, bloody and hairless, a couple of months ago, has healed well. I doubt it will ever grow hair again, and I think she snagged it on the barbed wire, although my mom speculates that something bit her (and that something was the squirrel that met his demise a week later...). Dr. Grace says it looks scaly, but is not a fungal thing, and agrees with me that it has healed nicely and didn't get infected. Yay me that it happened the same day I was bathing them all in the good stuff, anyway... That's how I noticed it, and boy did I wash the hell out of it. Malaseb rocks. ;)

We discussed Tess' potty issues (that's a whole other post), and Dr. Grace informed me about inflammatory cystitis, which can be stress-induced and does not always have to be a case of infection or urinary crystals. Good. Because my message board friends have really been making me feel like a bad kitty mom about this, even though I KNOW Tess' frequent bathroom trips coincide with things like, oh... moving... and visitors... and changing litters... and pretty much anything other than normal routine. She can go days sleeping and not pottying at all, and then go days of frequent trips to the box to strain out one squeaky-sounding little dribble... and then she'll pee in the dining room if she pleases... or in the bathtub... but she's happy. She's well. She plays, eats, drinks, hunts... I managed to "cure" it for 3 years by switching her food, and then after we moved them into this house from Mom & Dad's garage, she started up again.

Damn animals.

In all, with our much-appreciated and very much valued Multiple Pet Discount, each kitty was vaccinated (and wormed, why not?), for $24.56... or something like that. I walked out of there two hours and four healthy kitties later for only $98.something, total.

The two hours was because we waited a while after we got there, and because the awesome
Dr. Grace was so thorough, and because I actually asked a vet questions, for once, and my animals got more attention instead of the usual poking around. And because my favorite receptionist was still working there, after all, and I got to talk and talk with her while we were waiting for Dr. Grace to finish being thorough with her next patient and come sign our rabies certificates.

I also got to see puppies, play with a greyhound, and browse all the doggies free & for sale on the bulletin board.

I had a blast!

For ME? Really? You shouldn't have...

2008-05-05T17:17:00.002-05:00

...left that dead squirrel on the back porch.
Right in front of the door.

Is this a Mother's Day gift?
or payback for the "spa" weekend?

I know, I know- I bitch all the dang time about how pesky they are, and how I wish I could just shoot them all. I know you were just trying to help. I know how much you've heard me bitch about how aggravating they are and how I wish they would all just disappear, so then I wouldn't have to teach Kansas how to chill out when they are around.

Thanks.
I think...

I loved opening up the back door when I arrived home this afternoon, attempting to let everyone out to potty and then fill food dishes, and almost stepping on it:

"Oh! Yucky! Yucky! Yucky! Get back! Stay back!"

Miraculously, they did.
Apparently, for dogs, death is one thing, and squirrel is another, and dead squirrel is treated like something dead and not something squirrel.
Thank God.

Did you eat half it's face off, too? or had the insects already begun their work?

I'm assuming it was you, Tess, as you were the only one I left outside, and I have noticed you stalking said varmints religiously for some weeks.
Are you psychic? Did you read my mind that day I hoped fervently that you'd rid the yard of them?
I also know Leila is the better huntress, and it is possible she did this before she came in as I was leaving. I've seen her stalking the rascals, too.

Hate that it's stinking up my trash until pickup day...

Was planning to haul your asses to the vet as soon as the credit card payment clears, anyway.
Now have to worry about leptospirosis, as it's zoonotic and none of you have ever been vaccinated for anything other than rabies (and are 2 years past due, although it's a 3-year shot...) except for the kitten shots ages ago. Dogs are up-to-date at least.
You'd better not give it to me.
Don't see any bite marks or battle wounds on either of you, at least.

I Haz 4 Mads...

2008-05-04T12:26:00.002-05:00

What a surprise- I bathed all 4 cats yesterday and two of them actually liked it.
They're all quite accustomed to baths, what with the Great Ringworm Epidemic of 2002, and all... Still, except for the occasional cleansing of Tess- who doesn't groom herself and insists on peeing in her crate and lying in it... no-one has had a bath since 2005, when I decided to see if bathing shedding cats produced the same results as bathing shedding dogs.

It doesn't.

However, the girls have all developed various bald spots, and while I blame this on Stupid Spike and his bullying ways (Macie and Tess each have a bald spot between their shoulder blades, consistent with the bite-hold of an amorous male, which I don't understand since everyone here is DE-SEXED... although I did catch him in the act of what i see as "raping" Macie. That's why they don't get crated together at night anymore... and also why he keeps me up with his incessant, lonely yowling...), I opted to err on the side of caution.

Bring on the Malaseb.

Macie and Leila each have a spot atop their head, next to one ear, as well.
This totals two spots each for Macie and Tess.

None of the patches are scabby, or bleeding, or irritated.
They really just look like hair pulled out from the roots.
As I have no real proof of "why", best to just bathe them all in the stuff that kills everything, and see what happens next.

If I'm being truthful, I was also feeling rather vengeful and wanted to pester all of them

One by one, into the bathroom to trim nails (for the hell of it), swab tear stains (why not? allergy season and all...), and then, into the tub.

They've never been bathed with a handheld shower attatchment before.
It made things quite speedy- and easy!
I daresay Spike and Macie actually seemed to enjoy the warm spray/massage.
Tess and Leila fought and yowled like all getout, but who cares. I escaped unscathed and now everyone is clean, soft, shiny and smells good.
If Spike and Tess would just groom themselves, this process could be avoided.

Also on the plus side, Malaseb appears to kill fleas.
It was time to put on this month's dose of flea treatments (also something they hate), anyway.

That should do them for a while.

I hate you, you demon spawn heathens. ;)

Why Do You HATE Me?

2008-04-22T21:46:00.002-05:00

Spike.
This ridiculous she-cat bitch-in-heat yowling that you've adopted as your latest passtime.
It has GOT to stop.
I don't need you yowling at me when you think I should get out of bed 5 minutes before my alarm is going to go off.
I don't need you yowling at the back door when you want to go out- you know you're not allowed out at night, or when I'm not going to be around. You know where your litter box is.

Shut the fuck up, before you're on your last life.

My God. You used to be such a quiet, passive brat.
Now you're an increasingly annoying, vocal, begging shitface fuckhead.

Small Relief

2008-04-20T21:02:00.002-05:00

Macie scratched both her ears bald within weeks of moving into the new place.
No redness, no swelling, no inflammation, no temperature, no open wounds, no oozing, no bleeding, no ear mites...

I think she just likes the sound her ID tags make when she scratches.
I'd put on the new one, but also left on the old one, with our old address.
I did it with all of the pets- just in case I need to keep those tags. If we move back...

They hit together when she scratches, and jingle.

I spent a week swabbing out her CLEAN ears with hydrogen peroxide, and then washed them a couple of times with the good stuff- Malaseb. We bought some during the
Great Ringworm Epidemic some years back. It is anti-bacterial, and also anti-fungal.
When I found out you could now get it (through Drs. Foster & Smith.com) without a prescription. I stocked up. It treats cats AND dogs (and people, too). The main anti-fungal ingredient is Miconazol, the only anti-fungal ingredient that worked for us.
Of all of the products we tried back then, only this shampoo, and one OTC human athlete's foot treatment product contain it.
So, I dosed her with that, just to be on the safe side.

I'm pleased to report that, as of today, both ears are back to their normal, furry state.
Gotta keep stuff like that on-hand!

Making Me Crazy

2008-04-19T22:29:00.002-05:00

The rules,
they have not changed.
They are the same damn rules you've all adhered to for the past seven years.
Regardless of how many times we've moved, or where we live.

Now, for the last fucking time-
-stay out of my cabinets.
-stay off of my countertops.
-stay out of the windowsills
AND OUT OF THE BLINDS.

Use the Goddamn litter box,
quit peeing in my bathtub when I'm not home or when you think I'm asleep and not watching you.
That goes for the dining room, too.

Quit peeing, puking and pooping in your crates.

Quit yowling like a cat in heat (you're all spayed/neutered, what the hell gives?!)
in the wee hours of the night and carrying on said caterwauling for HOURS!
And quit starting that up again mere minutes before my alarm goes off.

How many of your lives have expired in the past two months?
Are we on the last one yet?
Because I swear, I feel so very violent toward most of you...

Get the hell away from my ankles.
How am I supposed to feel affectionate toward you or show affection to you when you are constantly pissing me off? I realize that the more I ignore you, the more you are going to act out to get my attention. However, getting my attention in the aforementioned manner(s) is going to most likely get you heaved into a wall and me arrested.

All 4 of You do This

2008-01-23T21:51:00.001-06:00

moar funny pictures

Merry Christmas

2007-12-10T12:42:00.000-06:00

From a very miffed Tess, Macie, Leila and Spike.

The indignity of it all. *sniff*
Humph!

Funny!

2007-09-26T12:23:00.000-05:00

You're All So Damned Annoying

2007-09-07T11:23:00.000-05:00

I hate you.
Why is it that I care enough to wait until a time of day when nobody every potties, completely clean out your litter box, wash it, let it dry in the sun, scour and deodorize the corner it stays in, put in fresh litter and you all have to fucking go and soil it as soon as I'm done?

This is exactly why I hardly ever clean it up so nice for you.
All you do is make a freakin' mess.

...although I must admit, that expression of sheer panic on your faces when you notice your stupid litter box has gone missing is just priceless.

Oh, and, Macie, seriously dear, can you please figure out how to SQUAT when you pee?
I'm tired of mopping it up. You only get half your pee in the box, you loser. Your FIVE YEARS OLD! FIGURE IT OUT ALREADY!

Macie & Abby

2007-08-12T14:25:00.000-05:00

Because I can't blog about Macie, without also telling Abby's story.

The calico and tortoiseshell littermates arrived in our home in the fall of 2002, courtesy of my mother (seeing the pattern here, yet?) by way of my Aunt, via a phone call as follows:

"Aunt has 2 pitiful kittens living on her front porch. You know how she is about little, helpless things that are possibly going to die. I thought it would be fun if you and Kevin took them in and cared for them until I find homes for them. I thought it would be a fun project for the two of you."

A fun project I needed like a hole in the head.
Kevin had just returned home from another year away in the wild world of baseball. To a girlfriend who announced she wanted to end things. He refused to leave and was pleading I reconsider. I was emotionally exhausted, struggling through my final semester of college, and failing Biology because of my own stubbornness (the college was MAKING me take it after YEARS of telling me I had placed high enough a grade during high school to be exempt from it. I'd spent countless semesters battling professors of other science classes it was a prerequisite for, etc...).

Yet, I couldn't say no. Something needed me. And maybe I needed something to focus on. Thus, I caved (yet again) and brought home the two, tiny creatures. They were so young their ears weren't even upright and functioning yet. Eyes WERE open, but that was it. Bottles and kitten formulas were purchased and the endless feeding regimen started.

They were cute, but, man! were they loud and demanding. Climbing right up your pants-leg to get to you and the food. Had to practically squirt the formula right out of the bottles in order for them to get it fast enough to keep from going hysterical with impatience.

There was also something strange about their appearance. Macie had lots of funny, black patches on her head and face. I thought it was some kind of mole or birthmark. It wasn't until after the discovery, that I also realized their lack of whiskers and eyelashes.

Thanks to my mom and Aunt, we, and our own cats, had been subjected to what would come to be known as the Great Ringworm Epidemic of 2002.

None of my pets had ever had ringworm until this point.

Spike took the hardest hit, what with his immune system still compensating for his missing leg, and the fact that, of our 3 cats, he was the only one to welcome the kittens.

The other two shunned them, completely, which was a blessing as they are both long-haired and the fallout (pun intended) would have been much worse. Spike adopted the babies and had spent hours cuddling, bathing and playing with them by the time the first spots appeared on the humans in the apartment. It takes 10 days for the spores to incubate before any signs appear. It could have been nipped in the bud alot sooner, had I listened to my gut. I asked Kevin, the germophobe "Does this spot on my leg look like ringworm to you?"
He said no.He was wrong.3 spots later, I quit listening to him.I also got confirmation from a good friend of mine, who, as a mother, had seen her share of the fungus on her own son.

Macies' black "moles" weren't birthmarks- they were tiny baby kitty fur growing back in after being rendered bald.

It wasn't long before Spike developed raw, red patches all over his mouth as the fur began to detatch and fall off. More patches appeared on his head, and elsewhere on his body.
Tess and Leila each suffered one missing chunk of skin + hair...or two or three... but they were spared the worst of it.

I gave up counting spots on myself, after a while, having read up on it and doing all I could to battle it. I knew it would run it's course. Among other things, we began vacuuming daily, bathing the cats every other day (Mom felt responsible and sweet-talked her vet into selling her a medicated shampoo without a vet visit, that she then gave to us. She also purchased iodine and other internet-suggested home remedies for us to douse the cats in), misting the whole apartment and all surfaces with a mild bleach solution... For ourselves, we purchased gallons of anti-fungal treatments. Sprays, creams, powders, balms... treatment was such that, if you did not keep up a constant battlel, even the healed, older wounds would renew themselves if treatment was stopped too soon. Eventually, we came to the conclusion that the ONE product (Cruex) that we could only find at ONE store (in limited amounts and they didn't always re-stock before we ran out) with the only ingredient (Miconazole) different from the others (also same ingredient in medicated cat shampoo that seemed to be working, and you betcha I pondered bathing in it at one point...) was the only thing that truly helped with the problem.

As a side note, my mother noticed that, as much as the kittens seemed to like cuddling up on my shouldler, nuzzling my neck and face, I had no lesions in those areas. She credits the heavy benzoyl-peroxide skincare regimen I was using at the time. A few other home remedies suggested by various friends seems to confirm this. Every one of their experiences with ringworm were resolved by a "drying out" of the skin at the affected area. Some mothers said their daughters lesions didn't cease until the child became ill with the flu and credit the high fever with "curing" the fungus. Others cite bouts of sunburn, days of swimming in pools, etc...
I was teaching water aerobics twice weekly at this time, and I know the pools treated with chlorine/bromine DID help keep the outbreak in check. I began laying out more, as part of my own experimental treatment, and practically bathing in the aforementioned facewash, as well...

We were at war with that fungus from October-February before it finally ran it's course.
DH took it the hardest. He's really not cut-out for bugs, germs, or icky situations.

It all could have been avoided- Aunt admitted that the night after she brought the kittens to my mom, the mother cat returned, calling for her babies. If she'd just left them alone like we told her to... momma cat was simply relocating her litter, one by one, not abandoning them.

My mom wasn't able to find homes for Abby & Macie (as they'd come to be called). She'd tried, but the interest wasn't there.

I was of the mind that this was her idea, she ought to take at least one of them. After all, she had a tortoiseshell cat, why not take Macie and have a matching pair? Dad wouldn't hear of it.

Thus, I was stuck with Macie.

My sister had a calico, and was happy to take Abby, so that SHE could have a matched pair. That worked out quite nicely.

Until the year she and I moved in together while her husband was overseas and Kevin was away for another baseball season. As that part of life drew to a close and it appeared we'd all be going our separate ways, Abby went missing. She'd wandered off a few times, so we thought nothing of it, until sis noted DAYS had gone by and we still hadn't seen her.

At which point, I recalled seeing a dead calico cat some blocks away from the trailer we were renting. I'd already examined the carcass once, fearing it was Abby, and ruled it out. Still, I mentioned it to BIL and Kevin (both were back home by this time) in private, and they trooped down the street to check it out. See, I recall driving off to work one day, and hearing a rather loud "thunk" from the rear of my car at about that block in the neighborhood. Both men agreed the corpse was Abby. I still don't think so, but they tell me I'm just in denial. If it was her, she had secreted herself up under the wheel well of my car at some point and then become frightened by the movement and tried to jump free of the car as I rounded a curve. I hate to think I'm responsible for hear death, but it WAS my usual route to work, and it WAS a fair distance from the house, and not feasible she'd have wandered there on her own... Still... the markings weren't right...

However, Abby never appeared again, so it stand to reason...

Macie, whether due to lacking certain nutrients and proper upbringing, or because of her own individual personality, is a bizarre creature. She so resembled Gollum, when she was a kitten, that I often wondered if she weren't feline at all, but some goblin-like creature. Lashless eyes so big, runty body so much smaller than her sister...

The first two years of her life were chaos for me. She was kitten behavior 101, 100 times over. Everything normal kittens did, she did worse. More of. More often. My most-uttered words during this time were unvaried prayers and supplications that we'd all survive until she became two and "settled down".

She's prone to wandering into an empty room, sitting her butt down and YOWLING like all get out. As if she's lost and trying to get someone to find her. Does she forget where she is? Is this attention-seeking behavior? Did some part of her malnourished infant brain not develop properly? We used to call out "Macie! Macie!" until she'd come running. These days it's more like "KNOCK IT OFF, DAMMIT!"

She was sweet when she was a baby. She used to climb up my leg, to my chest, then pat my face with her little baby paws, taking my face in her tiny hands whenever she wanted attention. I loved it.
She doesn't do that anymore...

She also had a penchant for ripping up bathroom rugs. Whether it had an attatched trim or not, I'd come home and she'd have neatly excised an exact border off the edge of whatever rug I had, in perfect symmetry- all the way around.

She still eats by licking her food, rather than picking it up and chewing it. It is the most annoying, agonizing thing- when you're waiting on her to finish and trying to defend her from her sisters, who would love to snatch the bowl away.

She's terrified of going outside, although she was raised in the same place as the other 3, and treated exactly the same in all regards. She fights to stay in, flees if tossed out, hides, awaiting any opportunity to gain re-entry that can be siezed. And then, just as suddenly, if it's dark out, she's got to be kept a close eye on or she'll dash out the door and refuse to come back. She's quite the contradiction of herself.

She loves toys better than anybody, but refuses to play unless you stick around and play, too. She won't play on her own (unless it's a ring from a milk jug, and then she defends that from the others with her life, crying as if tortured once she knocks it under the 'fridge or stove, out of reach).

She's also Spike's buddy, his "baby", his playmate. The only cat that will even play-fight with His Bulliness... The sleep in a crate together at bedtime. If Spike is crated as "punishment" for something, Macie sits or lays outside the crate, refusing to leave his side. When we've traveled to the vet or moved due to a relocation, Spike clings fast to her inside their crate, both paws wrapped desperately about her, locked in fear, yowling all the way.
She just sits, quietly, and lets him have his panic.

Thank God she'll be 5 years old next month and hasn't torn up a rug since that second birthday. These days, all she does is curl up in one of the nest beds, and sleep.

It took her a while to accept Kansas, but once she did, their favorite game became "hide and seek". One day it resulted in Macie's attempt to bolt through a closed sliding-glass door. She made such a crash I thought she'd broken it. They get on quite well together, but she hasn't paid Kansas much mind since Leo arrived.

She's still warming up to Leo.

Actually, she picks fights with him. At first, she would just hiss and run, make alot of noise, try to warn him away. Leo learned this was not a fun kitty to play with, and he leaves her alone. She won't cuddle or play games with him like the others will. And he used to get in trouble for getting too curious, getting too close and upsetting her. Now, however, he minds his own business and it's Macie who deliberately seeks him out, places herself in front of him, and then sets up her hissing, spitting fit. Now Macie is the one who gets yelled at and removed from the situation. It took her a while to become perfectly friendly and at ease with Kansas, it will take a while with this one, too.

Leila

2007-07-30T11:29:00.000-05:00

In July of 2001, Kevin made a sudden career change, taking on the job of minor leage baseball strength and conditioning coach. He packed his clothes and got on a plane to Stockton, CA and wouldn't be returning until the season was over, sometime in September- or October, if the team made it to any part of the playoffs.

Spike and Tess were still kittens; Spike was still recovering from his amputation.

I started noticing a stray kitten lurking around our apartment grounds.

She appeared to be the same age as my two, and seemed very sweet-natured. I debated whether or not to leave her out there, fending for herself among the rest of the strays. Surely if two kittens in a 400 sq. ft. apartment was a bad idea, three would be worse. Also, we lived above the management, and, while she'd never said anything about pet deposits, etc... I knew she knew we had two cats and figured she'd think 3 was worth saying something about.

I finally made the decision to take in the stray, just to see how things went.

I knew I had enough to deal with, but I was feeling unbalanced, what with Kevin's sudden absence, and in need of a distraction. I couldn't just leave her out there, either, when I had two of my own who were getting care. Spike and Tess were indoor/outdoor babies, so they'd already met up with this newbie, I was pretty sure. She was tiny, whether from malnutrition, or genetics, I don't know. I brought her in, fed her, and began a regimen of pouring peroxide and saline solution into her ears, hoping to treat the ear mites she housed rather than taking her to the vet and spending money on her. Also hoping she didn't spread them to my two.

She didn't. A week of pouring stuff down her ears, which she tolerated rather well, and all signs of the pests were gone. It was like she belonged with us. The first day, I could let her out, and as soon as I'd call "kitty, kitty!" she'd speed across the lawn, up the steps and inside. She, who spent her first few weeks of life outdoors, seemed incredibly grateful to have been taken in and given a home.

It took her a while to settle in to cat life. She was so accustomed to being wild, hunting and fighting for food, etc... She didn't know how to play. Spike was, even then, a bully, and tried to whoop up on the girls. She would have none of it, and put him in his place, though. He still doesn't mess with her. Where Spike and Tess could fall on the floor, kicking and play biting each other, quietly, entertaining themselves, Leila struggled for survival. If either of them tried to play with her, she didn't play- she fought. Screaming like a banshee with the devil on it's heels. Kicking, biting, pounding. Outweighed by a kitten twice her size, and kicking his ass the whole time. She used to scare us when she'd set up a fuss like that. It sounded like someone was killing her, but there she'd be, kicking the stuffing out of an unsuspecting Spike or Tess, who were only trying to play with her.

She'd still rather be inside than out, although she spends time in both locations. She's still tiny, 6 years later. She is the most fine-boned, delicate and weighs the least of any of our cats. She's also the quietest. When she does meow, it's really just a squeak, and she only uses it when she really wants affection and is looking for you. The rest of the time, she's content to amuse herself with the dogs' toys, or nap on the couch. She'll be the first to climb into your lap, if you sit down, unless you're a stranger, and then she hides. Most recently, she's discovered she can wriggle under the kitchen cabinet doors, even though I've rubber-banded the handles together to keep all cats out. She flees there whenever people are coming to see the house. You can find her on the shelf, atop the waffle iron, and there she'll stay for hours afterward.

I hate it, but she and I have an understanding, one I'd rather not damage.

Kevin didn't like her much, when he got back. She didn't like him, either. I think mostly he didn't like that I'd added a third cat to the family, and was also annoyed that she didn't care for him. They went a few rounds, culminating in Kevin wadding her up into a ball and launching her from the balcony. After that, they made peace with each other. Quite a few of our cats got that treatment/punnishment over the years. I can't remember what crime brought on such repercussions, but whatever it was, the technique seemed to work. It all happened so fast I never had a chance to protest.

They landed on their feet, at least.

She's never been any trouble, and doesn't get into the same mischief our other felines do.

On the rare occurrence that she IS doing something forbidden, a quick frown or sharp word is enough to put her back in line for months. She loves to be brushed, and will beg for her turn if she sees the dogs being brushed or even sees a brush in hand. She's curious enough that if you're visiting for a while, she'll be the first of the 'fraidy cats to come out of hiding and meet you. She likes dogs alot, and welcomes the new ones happily. She looks after Kansas and Leo, curling up next to them to sleep during the day, or bathing their ears. She'll greet them with a few licks on the muzzle when they approach her, and swat at their tails as they pass by.

She's also the easiest to give pills to, and most willing to have her nails clipped or to suffer the indignity of a vet visit.

Spike and Tess

2007-07-08T18:16:00.000-05:00

When my youngest sister was going through her divorce, she moved back home with our parents.

She expressed a desire to have a cat of her own, even though the family cat, Bogey, was still in residence.

If my dad had had his way, this wouldn't have happened. As it was, Baby Sis happened to voice her desires during a visit to my aunt's house. My aunt promptly offered up any of her cats for the position. Thus, Misty came to live with our side of the family.

Within a few weeks it was obvious Misty had been pregnant before her relocation. My dad called his sister (my aunt):

"You're going to want the kittens back, right?

She wasn't amused. But neither was dad.

In the weeks leading up to the birth of Misty's kittens, my mom started in on me:

"You're going to take one, right?"

DH and I weren't married at the time, but we were quite happy in our 400sq ft. one bedroom apartment with no pets.

I take that back, we had Max, the turtle, whom I'd found when he was just a hatchling the size of a quarter, waddling along a low water crossing where I happened to be riding my bike.

I thought DH was lonely and in need of a pet. Having no other means of transportation, I stopped, scooped up Max, tucked him into my sock, and pedaled away. Max was rather dizzy by the time he arrived at his new digs, but that's another story and shall be told another time.

As I mentioned earlier, Bogey, the world's best cat, was still taking up residence as the family cat in my parents home. I was quite content to spend time with Bogey when I visited my parents. I'd left my dog, Mollie, behind when I moved in with DH, and so all of my pets remained within 10 minutes of me, and I was able to see them whenever I wanted. I wasn't lacking for pets or yearning for any.

But if you know my mother, you know I already felt the weight, the dread, the certainty that at least one of those kittens would be coming home with me.

Misty birthed 6 kittens on Good Friday of 2001.
It happened to be a Friday that was also the 13th.

I'm not cruel, but I can be rather mischievous. Having 6 newborn kittens in the house during Easter weekend, especially when 5 of them were plain white and one was black with silver tabby markings was just too much. We happened to be dying Easter eggs one evening, and Baby Sis happened to be out. I begged and begged (yes, I was an adult) my mom to let me dye the kittens. It was just vinegar and food coloring- what harm would it do? Such inviting, blank canvasses...

She agreed to just let me soak their tails.

One by one I dipped white kitten tails into the dye- green, blue, purple...

Sis was furious. I was disappointed.

You coul.d hardly tell there was any color.

Misty managed to clean it off, even after it had dried.

I guess feline saliva is a stain remover.

As the kittens aged, it was obvious which one I'd chose if I were going to have a cat- which I wasn't.

It was also obvious which one DH would have wanted.

The little shit's attitude said it all.

The fact that he was a dead ringer for the cat of DH's youth, the one told tales about,

the one his brother squashed under the garage door, didn't help matters.

DH hadn't even seen the kittens and I knew we'd end up with two of them because he would want that one, and I would want the other.

And so, when my mom sent out a humorous email chronicling the day all kittens managed to escape their box, I knew... the first one to escape was "mine".

The biggest. Blue-eyed. Fluffy. Snobbish. Kitty princess.

Mom had named them all after popular female teeny-bopper pop stars, and her emails regaling the adventeures of little Britney, Christina, Aaliyah, Beyonce... (you get the idea) were emails with a purpose.

I took DH over to see the kittens and he immediately latched on to the bully of the group.

Knowing there would be a spat, I just told him we were taking both of them.

Two kittens in a 400 sqare foot apartment with two people who hadn't even decided they liked each other enough to get married.

Tess was named from the beginning.

I knew if I ever had a fluffy white cat, I'd name her Tess.

I also liked the name "Tabitha" but never made mention of it.

Funny that my mom, when she gave up the teenybopper pop star idea, started calling this kitten Tabitha.

Thus, we have Tabitha Tess Mize Casula Lennox*- depending on how much trouble she is in.

And boy does she get in trouble.

She's always dirty, or scratched up. She gets in so many fights. She and her brother pick on each other constantly.

She prefers to be outdoors, climbing trees, rolling in the dust, staying out all night.

She wanders far and wide (and usually comes home sick).

Spike got his name for being a tough little snot. Since he was DH's, I was leaving it up to DH to name him. One week went by and DH still couldn't decide on anything, so I laid down an ultimatum:

"You find a name for that little shit or I'm calling him Spike."

Because he was like a "Spike". He bullied everybody, beat up everything, tore up everything...
and yet he loved everybody. He's still never met a stranger. He roamed our apartment complex like he owned it, visiting each neighbor, begging for food- or stealing it from their own pets. They all found it amusing. We found it annoying.

He never ate at home, usually puked up something some well-meaning resident had fed him "to see if he would eat it." One of them had him catching and eating shrimp tails as fast as they could cook them on the grill...

They thought it funny that he'd make his rounds every morning, pawing at a door here, a window there, to be let in. He'd march right in, shove whatever pet they had out of the way and eat his fill from that poor creature's bowl- dog and cat alike.

His favorite playmate was the toddler child of a neighbor a few doors down from us. Anytime she was outside, Spike would hear her little feet running down the boarwalk, or hear her joyful giggles. He would be begging at the door to be let out just to play with her.

His friendly fearlessness got him in trouble.
We opened the door to let the cats in for bed one cold February night when he was 9 months old and found him curled up on the stoop, unable to walk himself in.
We briefly recalled the sound of quick foosteps passing our door and then hurrying away a few hours prior. Ours was the only unit at that end of the complex, and a dead end, at that.
Whoever it was knew where we lived, knew he was ours, knew he was physically unable to climb the two stairways to our apartmant and had brought him up and left him there.
They didn't even knock.

He was in shock by that time, and in pain, but not ailing in a life-threatening way.
We called our vet, but our town has no emergency vet care other than to
1) call the office. 2) listen to the recording. 3) take down the pager number of whichever vet is on call and has it in their possession that night. 4) hang up. 5) call the pager number. 6) leave a message. 7) wait for them to call you back.
8) when they call, they inform you it's an automatic $200 fee just to show up at the office before they even assess the nature of the ailment and decide what, if anything can be done, and whatever THAT costs...

The vet on call advised us to wait until regular office hours if possible.
None of us slept much that night, what with Spike's painful yowling. I put him in bed with me and curled up around him to warm him and get him through the shock. He slept until he was warm enough to start up his complaint, then DHtook him so that I could try to sleep.

When we got to the vet the next morning, x-rays showed Spike had a completely splintered hind leg, right at the femur. The strongest bone in a body. The vet could tell from this that it was not the result of a fall from a tree, or from being hit by a car.
This cat had been kicked. Brutally.
For a minute we feared they would accuse us of such a thing.

Well, Spike spent a few days at the vet undergoing $531 in surgery to amputate his left hind leg. They offered to refer us to an orthopedic surgeon who could have wired it all back together for $1,000 but we couldn't afford that. I was all for putting him down, because that's what the father who raised me would have done. That was his outlook. There's always going to be another pet. If it comes down to spending $ on vet care that takes food out of his family's mouth, he's not going to do it.
But, Spike was DH's cat and DH felt he still had alot of life left to live, so he maxed out his credit card on the procedure.

Shortly thereafter, DH got a job that took him out-of-state for the remainder of the year.
This left me to look after 3-legged Spike and raise both kittens on my own. That combined with DH's absence made for some stressful times. Not a day went by that I didn't arrive home to something torn up, or vomitted on. One night I called my mother in tears because the damn critters had opened up an entire box of raisins and scattered them all over the apartment. Another night it was an entire box of sour cream donuts that they'd gotten into and nibbled briefly on each one of .

But, we survived. I laid down the law. They learned. DH returned home and tried to mete out his version of "the law" and was rather impressed (and also shamed) when I caught him being rough with our babies and informed him "they have a 9pm bedtime and they DO know the word "no" and comply with it. That's all you have to do; tell them "NO!""

Both these white kittens, as did the other white kittens in their litter, grew up to sport various and interesting coat markings.

Tess's tabby face, 13-inch tail and thick, long fur, including tufts on her ears and in-between her toes are reminiscent of the Maine Coon breed, while the greyish-brown markings on her hears, head, back and feet suggest the seal-point Siamese.

Spike has faint orange tabby stripes on his back, and face, and rings on his tail.

We originally thought this was the result of his fur being shaved for the surgery, but recent reviews of kitten photos show the faint markings already present.

You would think that raising two kittens in a 400 sq. ft. apartment alone would be enough, but I haven't told you about Leila yet.

*Tabitha Lennox is a t.v. soap opera character. The eccentric witch on the show Passions.

Dossiers

2007-07-03T09:07:00.000-05:00

Spike:

Born 4/13/2001 (Good Friday and also Friday the 13th)
6 years old

Eyes: blue

3 legs

Littermate to Tess

Used to be the quiet one

Best known for begging, yowling,

behaving like a dog,

pawing at the back door

and bullying the others.

Tess:

Born 4/13/01

(Good Friday and also Friday the 13th)

6 years old

Eyes: blue

Littermate to Spike

Looks like a "princess" but turned out to be a real tomboy.

Spends her time partying on rooftops

and in storm drains.

Leila:

Estimated DOB 7/4/01

6 years old

Eyes: gold

Former stray

Best damn cat of them all.

Prone to bouts of hairball projection

Macie

Estimated DOB:

Labor Day weekend 2002 (late September)
Eyes: green

Fears the great outdoors, likes to hide in odd places, prone to getting "lost" in a room alone, inducing bouts of frantic yowling.

Bottle-raised.

Instigator of the Great Ringworm Epidemic of 2002

I Must be Feeling Kindly Toward You Today

2007-06-28T11:00:00.001-05:00

Poem from my childhood that padded it's way into my mind early this morning:

Fog

The fog comes on little cat feet.

It sits looking over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg

Feline Stupidity

2007-06-26T16:26:00.000-05:00

Look, if you're willing to sacrifice your head by sticking it in the dogs' bowls while they're eating, I really don't care if it gets bitten off.
You know better. Don't come cryin' to me.
And when it does happen, please remember to contain your dripping body to the hard floor...

I'm Not Sorry

2007-06-21T10:44:00.000-05:00

Really, dahlings, if you would just swallow the damn tapeworm tablet when it's forced down your throat, you wouldn't be stampeding about the house foaming at the mouth after repeated tries to get you to swallow it have made it all soggy so it reacts with your spittle.

Don't think that injured, angry look you give me has any repercussions. Besides, you don't know how stupid you look, trying to act offended while your face is covered in white foam.

Next time, just don't hunt the birds or rats, or ingest fleas when you're grooming yourself and we won't have to do this.

Riot Act

2007-06-19T10:30:00.000-05:00

Now look.

I've had it with you guys' behavior.

This is not I Crap in a Box.

That blog used to crack me up! The author is so witty! I used to rejoice that you cats of mine weren't THAT bad, and try to figure out helpful suggestions to remedy the topics of discussion presented.

It appears I laughed too soon.

What the hell, guys? Is the whole problem that you used to be outdoor cats and I was never exposed to such behavior because of that fact? I mean, it's the past couple of years that you've been indoors for the most part, because we've moved so much and lived in strange places, right? It's easy to ignore litterbox messes that don't exist when the world is your potty. That has to be it.

Macie- why can't you fucking ever SQUAT to pee, instead of just standing in the box and letting fly?

Spike, and Tess- seriously. You lick your ass all of the time. So what if there's a chunk of poop dangling from it? CLEAN IT UP YOURSELF, instead of letting it drop on my carpet. Or worse:

THE NEXT FELINE WHO WIPES THEIR ASS BY SCOOTING ACROSS THE LIVING ROOM IS BEING MADE INTO A RUG, I SWEAR! Dammit.

Don't make me-

I saw a lime green litterbox at Petco yesterday. You know how I get all impulse-shopper happy when things are lime green...

First Post

2007-06-12T10:39:00.000-05:00

I intended my first post about our brats to be more of an introduction. However, I received the following email forward this morning, and same has been circulation the pets message board I moderate. It seems quite apropos-

Spike, this means you!

Things Cats Must Try To Remember!
---------------------------------
Screaming at the can of food will not make it open itself.
(and no amount of yowling at mommy will motivate her to feed you faster, you ill-mannered demons!)

If I put a live mouse in my food bowl, I should not expect it to stay there until I get hungry.

If I bite the cactus, it will bite back.
(I think you should bite it some more. Go on, you know you want to)

Television and computer screens do not exist to backlight my lovely tail.

The canned cat food is already dead.
I do not need to kill it by swatting bits of it all over the floor.

It is not a good idea to try to lap up the powdered creamer before it all dissolves in the boiling coffee.

I am a neutered cat, not a peacock, and prancing around with my tail fluffed up will not make my "hardware" grow back.

If I play 'dead cat on the stairs' while people are trying to bring in groceries or laundry, one of these days it will really come true.
(This is a promise, not a threat.)