Posts Tagged ‘fur’

Kitty sneezes, cat diseasesesssss

I haven’t posted in a couple of days and I am not wondering why because I know why. It is the fosters. Four little kittens and one homeless mommy (Milkshake is her name) that I am fostering until they find their furever homes.  All adorable, all sweet natured, all cute as buttons but the energy, OMG.

They are slowly redecorating my home in a new style I call Early Destruction.  They are into everything, want to know how everything works so they can stop it from working. They love to see how things fall down, the smaller the item, the better. All so I won’t be able to find it later. They have to help me when it is feeding time, running from dish to dish to see who has the best serving. They move furniture around (not the big pieces, …..yet) and any throw rugs I have down are always in a new place when I get up in the morning, come home in the afternoon, well, at any time. And talk about things that go bump in the night. In my house, it is every night and many, many bumps. Their toys are EVERYWHERE and I don’t even want to talk about the kitty litter pans and the litter.

Okay, I will talk about the litter pans. I have four litter pans. I clean them at least twice a day. I feel like a slave to the pans. What is funny about cleaning the pans, possibly the only funny thing about it,  is whenever I do scoop the litter, the kittens find this activity of the highest interest and just have to become part of the process, getting back into the pan and “helping me”.  All four of them. And invariably after I finish the scooping, they have to test it, make sure it still works and it is still theirs. I did discover this though. The four pans are of 4 difference sizes, from small (for the kittens) to large (for the big cats). Can someone tell me why the big cats find the little litter pans so interesting and just have to use those instead? Jeepers!

One of the kittens greets me in a very special way. She flings herself at my face, not with claws or feet but with her face. Thank goodness she is so small. It is so cute but on several occasions, I was surprised and on one occasion, it hurt! She is the nuzzler in the group, just wanting to be as close to my face as she can get so she can give me kisses. I am going to miss her the most when she finds her furever home. She also had the sniffles when she arrived which I am treating with medication, however, on several occasions, when she is bestowing me with her little kitty kisses, she full-on sneezed in my face (I think she saves the sneezes just for me) and I was at first concerned. Am I going to catch a cat disease from this little kitten? Then I decided that if I were to get really sick or even pass away because of her sneezes, how cool would it be for me to catch a cat disease! To die from a cat disease! I know, I know, that’s really weird. But again, how apropos.

All I can say is this: in my house, I don’t need to put on any music, I have the music of kittens playing really really hard. Th crinkle of the crinkle tube, the bells on their little toys, the mews/yelps of them play fighting, the thumps and thunks of their little bodies running around and into things, the patter of their little feets, and last but not least, the purrs, such loud purrs, when they discover my lap and settle down.

Yeah, I am going to miss them.

But my curtains never stood a chance. Oh well, who needs curtains!

 

Winston, the gangsta thug cat

Winston. What can I say about Winston. Well, he is obviously a gangster and a thug. A gangsta thug cat, for sure. An enforcer, a hitman…..a hitcat, feared by all, including me.

Winston, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

He started out okay, adopted by my niece when he was a kitten, who had him declawed. When she married, there was an iffy relationship between Winston and his new dad so outdoors he went. As the story goes, a well organized gang of raccoons almost did Winston in. He was a changed cat from there on, dedicated to getting even and never taking a beating again from anyone with fur.  Or without fur, for that matter.

I was concerned for him being outdoors and declawed. So I offered to take him to Lake Worth because the raccoons in my area are way more respectful. Believe me, it is true. I have pictures to prove it. So into my car he went for his trip to a new home with me and my cats. This all happened during Christmas 2009. First night in his new digs, he bit me bad. It was one day later, New Years Day, when I realized the bite was badly infected so off to a clinic I went. And $400+ dollars poorer, I re-evaluated Winston, his clawless situation and just how tough is this cat? He is really tough and fearless so outdoors he went. He may not have claws but this cat knows how to wield his teeth. They are big teeth, really sharp and he is a very large and very strong cat.  All muscle and attitude. He walks with a swagger and rules with a temper. He is one scary dude.

It is 2+ years later and he is doing fine, ruling the neighborhood, collecting bribes, providing protection to his friends (does he even have any?), and aggressing anyone who gives him a hard time. He is a winner. And a thug. A gang of one.

He did have a run in with a car, presenting himself to me one night for his dinner, with obvious tire marks down his back. Could that be, I asked myself.  No way. But the next day, when Winston had trouble walking, I realized he had lost all of the skin off his paws during his meeting with the car (was not a good meeting for sure). So for almost 2 weeks, Winston stayed inside, at the foot of my bed, being waited on hand and foot (haha) until his paws healed. It was at that time that Winston and I came to an agreement. I would agree to feed him massive amounts of food, to cater to his demands, to leave him alone when he wanted to be alone, he would set all the rules, and all the critters in his vicinity had to obey him. In return, he agreed he would only bite me when he could not help himself.  Apparently he could not help himself approximately 9 times. I am hopeful though because there seems to be a longer period of time between each incident, as each occurs. I especially liked the time I opened the refrigerator door and Winston became so excited at the thought of food that he could not help himself and bit the back of my leg. Now that is a wake up call. I am lucky though, I am not a bleeder but I may have to re-evaluate my aspirin a day regimen.

Sleeping Winston. Looks real sweet but beware! He’s a killer.

My other cats respect him, that much is obvious. Whenever and where ever Winston is, my cats give him a very, very wide berth, never walking by him within teeth proximity. Apparently, to cats, teeth proximity is about 6 to 8 feet. I watched all of my cats circle around Winston, at one time or another, and never closer than 6 feet. I give him a wide berth, and when he decides to take a nap anywhere I happen to be near, I move. Remember, with age comes wisdom

This I know for sure: Winston will never be bathed, Winston has to tend to his own booboos, Winston does not ever have to worry about taking pills or any kind of medicine, for that matter, and Winston gets fed first….always.  Without a doubt, Winston is a man’s cat.