Tagged: cats
Kitty mommy blues. Thanks for listening.
Taco peed on the other couch. The one that he hadn’t peed on yet.
This is ultimately frustrating. I consider myself a loving, caring, well-informed kitty mommy that tries really hard to give her boys the best life possible. I know he’s not doing it on purpose, but it’s a slap in the face.
I’m sure you’re all getting sick of me bitching about this. I’M getting sick of bitching about this. And I’m gonna be honest, I’m sick of hearing the boyfriend bitch about it. This isn’t to say that he’s wrong for being upset. But here’s what happens…he gets pissed about it. I’m pissed on a different level, like a “this is what mommies have to endure but sweet jesus stop” level. And sometimes I feel like he’s pissed on a “let’s get rid of the cat” level. This has not been expressly said. So then I am dealing with my own frustration, his higher level of frustration, AND trapped between that and defensiveness for my baby.
From a logic point of view, I see why this combo causes a higher level of upset for me. I understand (for the most part) why cats do what they do. The fact that I can’t figure out how to make Taco stop peeing on the couch is a frustrating conundrum but out of all the things I DO understand about cats, this one thing is a fraction. The boyfriend loves them. But he is not a crazy cat lady. He didn’t decide that he liked cats more than humans. He just decided he liked me enough to put up with a crazy cat lady for what is going on 10 years. He doesn’t GET them. What bothers me most is that he should know how upsetting it is to me just merely not reinforcing strongly that he would never ask that we re-home Taco. Just because he hasn’t said the words indicating that he wants to doesn’t mean I’m not afraid that he’s going to ask that. My boys are non-negotiable. But so is my relationship. So it hurts that he doesn’t understand this very big part of my life, the crazy cat ladiness. Or at least give in to understanding that he can’t understand and be on my side. And be upset WITH me…not because our cat peed on our couch, but because I can’t fix Taco no matter how hard I try. I don’t even know if this makes sense reading it. And he will probably be upset with me for being so brutally honest here, but frankly, I had to get it out.
Taco is my baby. He might be a lemon, but he’s my lemon. He’s at least in a home where he will not be abused for peeing on a couch. He gets the best I can give him. I can’t save them all, but I can at least give one a little bit of leeway for being an animal. I just really really really really wish I could stop it. Boyfriend, I would. I even spent my lunch hour trying to figure out how to become a cat behaviorist (I haven’t really figured that out yet, but usually if I can’t afford something I try to do it myself. This is proving difficult in cat whispering Taco).
And despite all this, I successfully completed week 2 of smoke-free weekdays. I wanted to smoke this morning when the boyfriend told me about the loveseat desecrating, but I made my boss talk me out of it. Knee jerk reaction when I get bad news. So I have that to be positive about! At least I have control over something…
Mommy instinct is fallible. And…I think it’s gonna be one of those months.
In case you were waiting with baited breath to find out how Moosh is…
He’s fine. This has been confirmed with a vet visit. He did pee on Monday so I wasn’t worried about crystals anymore but since hanging out in the bathtub randomly isn’t always a good sign either, I decided to take him anyway. This decision was partly based on the fact that he was also overdue for his yearly visit. That fact made me feel like much less of an overreacting freako crazy cat lady.
Listen, if there’s one really good thing you can say about crazy cat ladies, we know our kitties. (Well, that and we take an awful lot of cat pictures.) When something’s off, it’s off.
Such an angel.
But in this case, whatever was making Moosh more weird than normal had run its course by this morning, because he was acting perfectly fine. I rushed home from work, lured Moosh out from under the bed with treats and tried to stuff him in the carrier before he was fully awake. Didn’t work. The boyfriend came home just as I was attempting this lovely task, guess who got to help? And guess who got clawed? Sorry baby, thanks so much for the help though!
For a laid back cat, Moosh sure hates the cat carrier. He NEVER meows, except for when he’s hungry, and then it’s a wussy ass “meeewp” but in the carrier, he’s like Taco times 10. He’s really got quite a range.
Escape while you can!
Anyway. He’s all normal. Including his weirdness, he’s back to his normal weird, instead of the weird weird. The vet pointed out that it may be the changing weather or changing furniture. Probably has something to with the glass breakage too. I found another giant chunk of it tonight. Not quite sure where that was hiding. These boys are lucky they’re not sliced to hell. Taco, on the other hand, didn’t even eat tonight because he’s too busy hissing at Moosh. This will last 3 days. Come ON, Taco, it’s only your freakin’ brother that you see every freakin’ day. He can’t possibly smell THAT different. Starve, then. See if I care. You eat your brother’s food all the time anyway. It’s about time you know how he feels.
Taco hiding out in the closet from Moosh. THAT’S a switch.
My boys are crazy. Just like their mother.
Oh, and then I got home, and decided to check my coolant levels because it smelled like burning antifreeze. Surprise! There’s a leak. I just got a new radiator, I am going to assume that is the most expensive thing that would cause a leak and I can rule that one out, so we’ll pretend for now that it will be a cheap fix. See? Power of positive thinking in effect. At least my babies are healthy. And I have a boyfriend willing to take a claw for me.
And I got to gush over these adorable babies at the vet!
Squeal!
Day 3 of Interesting Week. Ignored.
So here it is, day 3 of my interesting week, and nothing even remotely interesting has happened.
Taco supervising as I work from home. He should be fired.
Of course, that’s probably because I’m quarantined to the house to avoid infecting my co-workers and other outside life with my germy eyeball, but that’s another story. SOMETHING could have happened. I was on a roll there.
Instead, I have been ignored all day, abandoned by my furry flock. Rejoice, kitties, Mommy is here ALL DAY! So where’s Moosh Moosh? Under the bed. Where he’s been all day. Taco? He’s been intermittently annoying, mostly sleeping but occasionally getting up to meow fiercely for a few minutes at me and then retiring back to slumber. Not man nor beast wants to be around me today.
No help at all.
I did, actually, infect the boyfriend, it would seem, despite my efforts to the contrary. I washed sheets, disinfected surfaces and made pointed efforts to not touch my eye, at least not without a thorough handwashing afterwards.
I did google to see if I could give it to the kitties after a friend jokingly suggested that I’d never get rid of it if I passed it on to them. Didn’t really get a solid answer, so I’m not going to worry about it. They’ll be fine. I think.
Another night of shaking my fist at football.
I would post something incredibly and insightful about my kitties tonight…except I’m too busy hating football again. The cats hid in closets and under beds to avoid my wrath today. My fantasy football teams are complete crap. I was a 20-point favorite in one. Julio Jones, you kill me. I’m now 0-4 in my other league, and I have the most points scored against me, even though my own points would put me in 2nd if fantasy football went that way. But it doesn’t, so what that means is the person I play each week has an outstanding week, and despite the fact that my team is consistently good, it’s not enough THAT WEEK.
On the plus side, I did get a laptop, so I can watch my fantasy football demise from anywhere! Well, I could do that with my phone, too. I did get the iPhone5. It’s so much faster. I like. The best part is that the camera takes much less time to load, giving me a better chance of getting a good kitty pic while something is happening.
I also had to watch the Bucs game on my laptop because the game was blacked out locally. It looked pretty full to me, but what do I know? Thank goodness for the internet and streaming. Unfortunately, I had to watch them LOSE. So close, yet so far. Last minute heartbreak.
I’m also having way too much fun with Photo Booth. Taco not so much.
The Sunday night game, which I am currently watching (while writing this! I love having a laptop. Amazing.) features a team with a quarterback that I would not mind seeing crippled. I’m not saying that because it would benefit my fantasy football team, it’s because it’s Michael Vick. I don’t think people who kill dogs in cold blood ever really “change.” I don’t care how good he is, I’ll never put him on my fantasy team. I cheer for the defense of whoever he’s playing.
This is a very all-over-the-place post. Sunday venting. So cathartic.
At least I have my iToys!
YOUR LOSS, ANIMAL PLANET
Surprisingly, I received a response from the My Cat From Hell people, asking where I was located. In case you missed the post about how I answered their casting call, you can see that here. I was overly hopeful because in the past, they only asked for people living in the LA are, which, if you’re familiar with geography, is rather far from Florida, although not in the grand scheme of things. Hawaii is much farther. I am incredibly grateful that I was able to vacation there a few years ago but they really need to do something about the long plane ride. Frankly, I’m amazed that no one has come up with a less deadly version of the Concorde yet. How were they more technologically advanced in the EIGHTIES??? So back to the point, that they didn’t have a requirement, and the fact that they answered me back in what seemed to NOT be a form email got my hopes up that my cat pee couch dilemma was interesting enough for them to consider our little family of furballs.
Until I got the email that said “Thanks, but you’re too far.” (That’s not a direct quote, I paraphrased.) Oh well. I think Florida is a perfect place for Jackson to come. We have many unique kitty challenges, like not having real dirt, just a dirt-like sand that is the favorite of fleas, as well as not having a winter that gets cold enough to kill off the fleas, and even if you have indoor-only cats (which of course I do, because in addition to sociopaths and vehicles, we have alligators and supposedly coyotes but I’ve never seen one of those) fleas will come in unbeknownst to you clinging to your socks like a hobo on a train. They’re a bitch to get rid of. How come dogs don’t seem to have as much of a problem? They go out every time nature calls. And they ROLL AROUND in the dirt that the fleas love so much. Cat fur better? Everything cat is better. I could do without the fleas, though.
But alas, the boyfriend and I are just going to have to bite the bullet and do something about the couch and the figuring out of how to ensure that Taco never uses it as a litter box again. For now, though, I’m going to continue to procrastinate. Would have been so much easier to have someone to fix the problem for us. For a smart girl, I’m awfully lazy.
Giving back without burning out.
I’m pretty logical about everything, even being illogical. There’s an explanation for everything, even if it’s not scientifically measurable yet. But I still cling to my belief in karma. I don’t necessarily think that bad things happen to bad people all the time, but I think that bad people do bad things because they’re not right in the head, and are probably unhappy, or too stupid to realize they’re unhappy. I think not being able to enjoy the good things in life is karma in itself.
Taco reflecting on life.
I don’t consider myself a “lucky” person because there IS no luck, there are only seemingly random happenings that are taken as “good luck” or “bad luck” depending on the person’s viewpoint. An unhappy, negative person will see the bad in the things rather than the good, and vice versa. It’s kind of like when you’re having a bad day, where it seems like one unlucky thing happens after another…it’s probably not really more than any other day, but one of those things in the beginning of the day put you in a bad mood where you notice those little annoying things more and therefore think your day is cursed. I have those days. We all do. I’m a firm believer in wallowing to get over stuff, so when I have those days, I let myself be annoyed and shake my fist at the universe for allowing these horrible (but not really horrible, everything is usually pretty minor in comparison) things to happen to me ALL IN ONE DAY. Then I get over it.
That being said, I have a pretty decent life. I wish that I had the time or energy to give back. I’m not a huge fan of people but I would love to volunteer at a shelter. I’m gonna be honest and say that I’m not really sure that I could handle it even if I had the time, though. Animals affect me in a way that no social injustice ever could. I can see myself getting attached and hurt a lot. I can’t distance myself. I get sad about ratty looking stray cats in my neighborhood just LOOKING at them. And I’m pretty sure most of hem aren’t even strays, just cats that have owners that are too selfish to realize what a horrible idea it is to let their cats roam. It’s not exactly rural here.
Taco forced to live under a newspaper.
It takes me DAYS to get over seeing a dead cat on the side of the road. Hell, I’ll cry about dead SQUIRRELS. How can I be trusted to see animals that have no home all in one place? Ones that may never find their forever home. I can’t bring them all home, even if I could it would be horribly irresponsible of me and unfair to the cats. I like dogs enough, not near the level that I like cats but they’ll bring a tear to my eye too. I just don’t really like being jumped on. And they’re a little smelly for me. But they’re just as innocent and loving.
He’s loved.
Maybe one day I’ll have the time AND figure out how to balance my overly emotional self. Until then I’ll have to help my “karma” by donating when I can and spreading good kitty information. I fancy myself somewhat of an expert in that arena, anyway.
Forced brotherly love.
It’s afternoon, so it’s kitty sleepy time. Taco was asleep in the computer chair, while Moosh was in his makeshift cat bed that wasn’t supposed to be a cat bed but converted to one once I realized that he was going to continue to use it as a cat bed whether I liked it or not.
The boyfriend wanted to sit in the computer chair occupied by sleeping Taco, so he picked him up without disturbing his position and placed him right on top of sleeping Moosh.
What happened?
Nothing.
The afternoon sleepy is the sleepiest of all. They were both too sleepy to protest. I was surprised that neither of them moved, and even more surprised when they STILL didn’t move while I got my phone and snapped some pictures.
Whatevs. Crazy humans.
Another picture? Yup.
After about 10 minutes of this, Moosh had enough, stood up, which annoyed Taco, and moved to the box next to the bed. Taco, being annoyed, grabbed on to his back leg and tried to swipe him but both were really too tired to pursue anything more and resumed sleeping. Which they’re still doing. I wish I slept that well.
Gratutious cuteness.
I couldn’t help myself, Taco was being adorably sleepy yesterday…so I took something like a bazillion pics. I’ve never really fancied myself a photographer (I DO, however, consider myself an artist, but I prefer sketching and crafting) so my little low-grade point-and-click camera has always sufficed. So now that I am trying to get all crazy getting good blog pics, I realize it is much tougher than it seems to take a good picture. Of course, this could be because I don’t have a $500 Nikon (they have one of those in pink! Not a good reason, I know, but I am a sucker for product presentation – I’ve been a Mac girl since I was a kid compliments of my dad’s preference and I fell in love with Apple all over again when they really started pushing the pretty product envelope…so excited about the new iPhone! And although I need a laptop and I know I could buy a perfectly good PC one for a fraction of the price of an Apple…I refuse. So I keep putting the laptop in my cart and then chickening out. I suck at saving, but I’m terrified of big purchases even though I end up spending just as much on a bunch of little ones. I’m pretty sure impulse buying is an addiction, and I need an intervention. Wow. Totally off topic here.) so maybe I just have to take a crapload of pics to get a good one. I prefer thinking that over the option that I am a bad photographer, I’m good at everything I do. And if I’m not, I don’t do it.
So without further adieu, I present my very first gallery, along with titles. I call it “Eau de Taco.” Should you like to purchase prints of these works of art, I’m sure that can be arranged for a small fee.
“Why Are You Doing This”
“One Lone Softpaw”
“I See What You Did There”
“Enough With This”
Busted!
Most of the time, Moosh and Taco live separate existences. Except, of course, when they’re fighting. They’re well-matched in that regard, they’re about the same weight although Moosh is more bulk and Taco is long and lean. I don’t worry about it much until Moosh meows his wussy ass “mreep” and then I break it up. Otherwise there’s no hissing involved, and the only sound is the snapping of jaws and paw swipes making contact. Oh, and Moosh’s huffs. He does that when he’s really pissed.
So the other morning I woke to something heavy on my feet. Heavier than a cat. What’s heavier than one cat?
Caught on camera.
TWO CATS. That’s right, these so-called tough guys got busted spooning. SPOONING! So glad I had my phone next to the bed.
New cat drama, yay!
Like I really want new cat drama.
These little devils cause gray hairs.
Today, Taco has puked 5 times. All throughout the day. There’s really nothing in the house that he could have gotten into and he’s acting perfectly fine otherwise. We’ve taken him to the vet before for the puking, and she said that based on his age and the normal tests, it was likely just upset stomach and prescribed him Pepcid AC. Yes, the human kind.
Only Taco, being the smart little asshole he is, figured out Pill Pockets, and refuses to eat them anymore. So when he stopped puking so much and started ignoring the Pill Pockets, I just gave up. Since then, here and there he’s been pukey, but really, what cat isn’t? Even Moosh pukes sometimes. Mostly hairballs, I mean, it IS Florida and all, and I see how much hair they have. It’s only natural. I hear pumpkin puree is supposed to work for that, has anyone tried it?
Anyway, I don’t think it’s the hairballs today. He’s puked up all his food AND some Greenies (which will turn your beige carpet a lovely shade of green!) and even did the weird MEOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW thing that cats do right before they puke…only MY cats have never done it right before they puke. In fact, the only reason I know about the MEOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW “I’m about to puke” noise is from Jager…who was sick with FIP. My vet said that the noise was normal, but I now associate it with a dying kitten (which I know, logically, isn’t what’s wrong with Taco as it’s really only a disease that hits cats under 2, and usually way younger than that) and that’s extraordinarily unnerving.
And this is supposed to be my vacation week and I was looking forward to “me” time tomorrow (by vacation week I mean I have the week off one job and 1 and a half days at my day job which may not seem like a vacation week to you but believe me, it is to me) but now it looks like I’m going to have to take Taco to the vet, which also makes me feel like a horrible cat mom and horrible person in general for lamenting the loss of my “me” day for what could be a sick kitty. But something always happens on my days off. And I don’t get a lot of them. Plus, the vet costs money. Money I don’t want to spend at the vet. I love my vet, but really, I would like to see less of her. Just got the “Time for Moosh vaccinations!” postcard in the mail the other day. I should really get a volume discount.
But I suppose I should be happy I’m not getting hit with a hurricane and using my day off to evacuate. And although the RNC is going on just on the other side of the bay, I haven’t had any run-ins with crazy republicans. I did, however, put my “Republicans Hate Kittens” sticker on my car (it has a sad kitty face on it too) in hopes that I offend someone. I reason that any republican who actually does not hate kittens is probably an ok person and wouldn’t be offended by such a sticker anyway. I see the bright side. I guess I just feel like wallowing today. In addition to worrying about the kitty.
MEOW hear this! 