Tag Archives: cats

Moving slowly onwards

Because, you know, I MUST have a cat companion. I can’t exist without one, I now know that.

There was a time, after Chic died, when I thought I could: although I’d attempted to follow his subtle instructions for how to manage without him and had two Russian Blues, one after the other, they were disasters (as I wrote). And after on-selling the second one I was convinced I was OK without.

Then Leanne-up-the-corridor gave me a small ginger kitty and that was that. I’d got to a point where I could tolerate the movement about me and not give a rat’s arse about the untidiness created. And not only that, but the ineffable comfort ! – oh, the comfort of that little body …

So here’s where I’m at.

A really delightful couple who are fosterers for Project Meow (remember ?) came by yesterday with regard to my wish to adopt (cough !) Darling Scotty.

He looks incredibly like a tabby I once had, with his anxious eyes, whose name was Dr McCoy ! – and I’d also had Captain Kirk and Mr Spock, so this one could be the missing member of the quartet.

I’m off to see him on Tuesday.

And there remains in the mix, still, this feller:

whose name is Odin. He doesn’t look all that fearsome, does he ?! To me, he looks as if he needs to be clutched and kissed on – much as does Scotty. Well, in truth, I would probably do that to any cat as nice-looking as these two.

Although Odin is via a different fostering-out organisation, he too is a Project Meow moggy, I’m happy to say. But the potential problem here is that I have NO IDEA where he is currently living: he could be in Eltham, or bloody Frankston !, for all I know. And if he is on the other side of Melbourne, I shan’t be going to look at him. Why not ? – because I will not cart him all the way from there to Geelong: he would end up in emotional tatters.

So. That’s where I am. I have some hope for a life better than mine has been for the last two weeks.

STOP PRESS:

Odin is out of the equation. His fosterer, a sweet Canadian lass called Stephanie, tells me there are a couple of issues that I, reluctantly having to admit to this alarming number of years and concomitant lack of fitness/ability to be a physical carer, would not be able to surmount. Goodbye, Odin, you beautiful cuddly moggy … But Stephanie has bonded with him, and thinks she will change from being a fosterer to being an owner.   :)

It’s looking very like the anxious-eyed one will become the h’object of my h’affections, then, eh ? This will depend entirely upon his reaction to me. But I don’t see how ANY cat could resist this large, warm, affectionate cat-platform that is your author …

M-J’s post reminded me …

The BikerChick may not see this until she gets back from her totally undeserved holiday; but it was her post today that recalled to mind the following list of instructions:

How To Give A CAT A Pill

      1. Pick up cat and cradle it in the crook of your left arm as if holding a baby. Position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat’s mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As cat opens mouth, pop pill into mouth. Allow cat to close mouth and swallow.
      2. Retrieve pill from floor and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left arm and repeat process.
      3. Retrieve cat from bedroom, and throw soggy pill away.
      4. Take new pill from foil wrap, cradle cat in left arm, holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten.
      5. Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and cat from top of wardrobe. Call spouse from garden.
      6. Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees, hold front and rear paws. Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to hold head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth Drop pill down ruler and rub cat’s throat vigorously.
      7. Retrieve cat from curtain rail, get another pill from foil wrap. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set to one side for gluing later.
      8. Wrap cat in large towel and get spouse to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force mouth open with pencil and blow down drinking straw.
      9. Check label to make sure pill not harmful to humans, drink 1 beer to take taste away. Apply Band-Aid to spouse’s forearm and remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.
      10. Retrieve cat from neighbour’s shed. Get another pill. Open another beer. Place cat in cupboard, and close door on to neck, to leave head showing. Force mouth open with dessert spoon. Flick pill down throat with elastic band.
      11. Fetch screwdriver from garage and put cupboard door back on hinges. Drink beer. Fetch bottle of scotch. Pour shot, drink. Apply cold compress to cheek and check records for date of last tetanus shot. Apply whisky compress to cheek to disinfect. Toss back another shot. Throw away T-shirt and fetch new one from bedroom.
      12. Call fire department to retrieve the damn cat from across the road. Apologize to neighbour who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Take last pill from foil wrap.
      13. Tie the little bastard’s front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining table, find heavy-duty pruning gloves from shed. Push pill into mouth followed by large piece of fillet steak. Be rough about it. Hold head vertically and pour 2 pints of water down throat to wash pill down.
      14. Consume remainder of scotch. Get spouse to drive you to the emergency room, sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm and removes pill remnants from right eye. Call furniture shop on way home to order new table.
      15. Arrange for RSPCA to collect mutant cat from hell and call local pet shop to see if they have any hamsters.

      How To Give A DOG A Pill

      1. Wrap it in bacon.
      2. Toss it in the air.

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I believe I ought add a couple of lines here re my own cat, yes ?

Lui is doing OK. Just fine, actually, considering. His levels of affection have risen noticeably, so that I get all manner of additional cuddling, lucky me !

He does have a worrying tendency to nadge away at the paw with the tumour, and I can’t stop him. It’s even a bit bloody at the tip, under the sole remaining unclipped claw – which I suppose they left because they thought it would hurt him if they tried to clip it.  We have an appointment next Thursday evening; and frankly I don’t think they could do anything about this … or shall I be brave and try to clip the claw off myself ?

:-\