READ THE BIG PIECES

23 – Pets

I have 5 cats:  Cheetah, Flash, Tiger, Baby and Smores.

Cheetah is the eldest.  I think he’s about 5 years old, maybe 6.  6 sounds about right.  He’s my semi-feral cat.  We got him as a kitten, but once he was a year old, he wanted to be outside and outside is where he will go whether you let him go or not! LOL  He’s a good hunter, but docile enough to want to get pet by just about anyone.  🙂  And believe it or not, he’s got to be one of the most healthy cats around.  By far the healthiest of my brood.  He occasionally gets beat up and we have to re-up his rabies vaccs, or spend a bazillion dollars beating an infection (hemabartonella) but damn, that cat is the bomb!

Flash is my wuss.  Poor thing.  He’s such a lover.  He would cuddle with you all day if you let him, and sometimes, I’m inclined to do so.  Sadly, he’s probably my largest cat, but still thinks he’s a kitten.  He tries to crawl up on my chest to curl up between my boobs and my chin.  Honey, you ain’t that little anymore.  You barely fit on my lap, fuzz-bucket!  But, we love him.  🙂

Tiger is the heavy.  He’s my long-haired, bane of my existence.  He likes to play coy.  “Pet me.”  “See how cute I am?”  *twine around legs* “Pet me.”  As soon as you do, demon cat emerges and you get hissed at, clawed and bitten.  But the next time you sit down, he’s your bud.  Makes it kind of hard to cuddle with a demon in a fur coat.  But again, we love him.  🙂

Baby…oy, he’s a baby.  He NEEDS to be pet, and cuddled, and, and, and…He’s like the toddler that follows you into the bathroom or shoves his fingers under the door while you’re in there.  He is up my ass all the freakin time!  Cries if he’s not in the same room with you (or can’t GET into the same room with you).  Cries if you’re not petting the right spot.  Oh, and if he catches you petting another cat?  Get the paper towels ready cuz the little effer will pee on whatever he can put his ass on.  Jealous little twit!  *sigh*  But we love him.

That brings us to Smores.  She’s my problem child.  See, I’m a sucker for animals.  Especially homeless ones that I almost run over in the parking lot at work.  She’s SOOOOOOOO tiny.  She’s nearly 2 years old, but looks like she’s about 6-8 months.  The vet nearly took my head off when she saw her, but she is NOT abused/neglected.  She’s just tiny.  She eats like a friggin’ pig (and like she’s never seen food before), but all her tests come back negative (her thyroid was low and her white count is high, which suggests a leukemia of some kind – she tested negative for Feline Leukemia) and we can feel a lump near her liver, but she’s basically healthy.  If she has cancer, I can’t do surgery 😦  And she’s so small I don’t think she’d survive surgery 😦 But we will do all the food, vitamins, supplements, etc. necessary to keep her as healthy, happy and pain-free as possible.  (btw, vet #2, same practice, diff vet, is shocked, but says she’s healthy and to do XYZ and bring her back in 3 weeks…she goes back next Saturday).

It seems I can’t have a brood of cats without ONE of them being my problem child.  Before Baby and Smores (and Tiger!) it was Bonnie.  My Bon-Bon.  SHE had cancer (it’s all my female cats, interesting).  I did x-rays, ultrasounds, etc.  But she was also 15, so surgery was out.  We made her happy, healthy and comfortable until she just couldn’t do it anymore, then I took her to be put to sleep.  😦  I miss her every day, but I think she sent me Smores to try to fill the hole she left.

Obviously, I love my babies.  Very, very much.  And I will stupidly put myself in the poor-house trying to care for them.  They poop, pee, puke and scratch (I don’t do de-clawing), but I wouldn’t trade them for the world (even when I’m threatening to send them to the kitty home for being naughty).

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