“I meant,” said Ipslore bitterly, “what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?”
Death thought about it.
“Cats,” he said eventually. “Cats are nice.”
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
My fat little Calico cat Penelope Patches turned up with some mysterious blisters on her left hind leg and belly night before last. They must have been pretty itchy because she had literally licked the hair on her leg to a nubbin. It looked like she had had a shave. I wouldn’t have even noticed since she’s a shorthair to begin with but while I was combing her I noticed that she had some open sores on that leg. Then I looked more closely and checked her all over for fleas and what not and found blisters on her belly. Uh Oh…
Wouldn’t you know it, right on the cusp of the 4th of July festivities. Well, I’ve got antibiotics and anti-fungicides so I threw both at the problem and called the Vet who would you know it is out on vacation until Friday. FRIDAY??? Why on earth are they coming back for Friday? I guess they have to cover the ER for the weekend. Weird.
Anyway they said it would be OK if I !waited 24 hours to see what happened. The blisters are gone and the open sores have healed. Except for the ongoing problem with her chin we seem to have goten past a bump in the road. She has had a tendency to scratch her chin raw since she was quite young.
But it’s gotten much worse since we moved here. Someone at the Delphi Forum’s Isle of Whack mentioned allergies might be causing this newest out break and that’s a distinct possibility because I got some Newman’s Own cat food off of the Free Table that Whole Foods so kindly donated to our building. Thinking about allergies, I remembered that one of my daughter’s cats (now deceased) was allergic to something pretty common so I called my son-in-law. It was plastic and that’s why they fed him on a cookie sheet. I forgot about that. SIL said it was a very common cat allergy.
So maybe that’s the deal with Patches. I just got her a new collar with rhinestones because I’m trying to leash train her. Don’t laugh! It’s working. You may not be able to teach old dogs new tricks but cats are smart and Patches was learning that she can pull me wherever she wants me to go with that leash. She won’t play with anything but yarn I happen to be turning into garments at the moment and she simply cannot resist that stuff.
It’s simply too undignified to chase things I throw around the room and shake at her but when I knit and crochet that yarn acts like it moves all by itself. She only goes after things when I am not looking at her. It’s hilarious to watch her out of the corner of my eye watching me to make sure I am not making that yarn do its thing. She’s convinced I am but she can’t figure out how I do it. She’ll sit there doing her damndest to ignore that yarn until she just can’t stand it anymore and then she just has to pounce on it. Or sometimes she will just nonchalantly get up and go over and sit on it. End of discussion.
Over the years she has become a trifle portly and needs to lose weight which is why I got her that spiffy new pink collar with rhinestones and matching leash because she will run up and down stairs. We have lots of stairs in this building. All kinds of stairs. I was even going to get her a bell for her collar so she could tinkle as she jogged. She was very proud of her collar and the leash too. She actually played with the leash that hangs on the bathroom door a few times when I wasn’t looking.
But guess what? YUP, it’s cheap plastic. I love this cat but I’m not shelling out for real leather for a cat that spends her life sitting on the back of my chair. Well, I WASN’T going to. I guess I’m going to have to rethink that. Do you realize what a billion dollar industry the pet trade has become?
She’s a neurotic little thing. Her mother disappeared when she was less than two weeks old and I got her and her sister 48 hours after the fact when they were limp little rags that hardly had any-life left in them. I named her sister Raggedy Anne and commenced trying to keep them alive long enough so that the humane society would take them and find them homes. Right.
They were so infested with internal and external parasites they didn’t have a fighting chance even though you can sometimes starve worms by mixing garlic into kitten replacer milk. They just had too many worms and the worms were HUNGRY. So my fella said we had to take them to the vet. I told him the bill was going to be outrageous and we could take them to the humane society (while I was sobbing) but he said no he couldn’t do that, Not after a week of helping bottle and eye dropper feed them. That was nearly nine years ago and Patches and I are still keeping company.
She just has never gotten over that traumatic beginning. She has separation anxiety and is a Mama’s baby. When she wakes up from a catnap she cries until I say her name and I can be sitting three feet away but I have to say her name before she is happy. I don’t know what in hell she does when I’m gone. I leave the radio on for her but my neighbors say they hear her crying. I won’t leave her for more than 24 hours.
She’s bulimic and will eat until she gets sick into her bowl and then eat some more etc until its all a sodden mass of puke and beg for more if I don’t keep kibbles available in her bowl all the time. She even has a kibble quotient. If it goes below five kibbles she hits the panic button.
Every time I get up to go do something she runs to her bowl to check and see if it needs more food and the first thing she does when I come home is ask for a back rub and then checks her bowl for food. It used to be vice verse but I’ve managed to convince her that a good back rub is almost as good as food.
I’ve never had a cat who is so focused on food. Cats who liked to eat yes. But this cat is absolutely obsessed. If she does not think she has enough food in her bowl she will come and chew on my hair. How that got started I will never know but it drives me crazy and she has me trained to know that she thinks the kibbles in her bowl are low and it’s time for a refill.
Otherwise, she’s an excellent cat, She comes to her name and understands several commands like down, no, get out of there, and do you want a treat? I didn’t say she obeyed them. She jsut knows what they mean and will more often than not prove she does by agreeing that it would be prudent to accommodate me since I own the squirt gun. She will however occasionally prove that she is still the mistress of the house and dare me to go get the squirt gun, fill it full of water, and take aim. By the time I have managed to get myself in position she has managed to take a leisurely stroll elsewhere and disdainfully laughs at me from across the room. I swear she is the reincarnation of some Siamese Princess (she has Siamese eyese I think) who really isn’t neurotic. She’s just spoilt rotten.
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