My cats are curious things. When we were living out in the country on my dad's farm, they were exposed to all sorts of wildlife. I used to have a few bird feeders sitting outside in view that the cats all LOVED to watch. Sylvester in particular has a cute habit of trying to talk back to the birds. He hears their "chirps" and... I dunno, maybe he's not talking "to" them...but he's doing something when he lets out a series of quick little meows that he disguises as chirps. Its hard to explain, but its kind of like a longer drawn out 'meow'. The other cats enjoyed the birds as well.
Living in town where we are at, there isn't this opportunity to watch the wildlife. Although there is a different kind of "wildlife" to be seen and heard. Sometimes then the cats are bored they'll simply watch the traffic outside. Sometimes the occasional black bird will fly by and land on a light pole or something. Or the tree that is pretty close to the building that many birds will sit on. (And subsequently use the cars below as landing pads for their...well...you know....).
But another thing that makes the cats curious is noises within the building. Typically we don't hear any noises from any of the other tenants, except for the couple that lives upstairs. I won't mention them by name, but I'll refer to them as "A&M". A&M seem to have a bit more of their youth in them than I do. (Hey, I'm old at 28?!?!) Thus some weekends they may have a small party of sorts up stairs and I can hear the occasional traffic up and down the stairs in the hallway or voices outside when they go out for a cigarette. Of A&M, "A" has a habit of wanting to stomp up and down the stairs. I'm not sure why. Maybe he's just one of those people who goes up and down stairs with authority. And needs to make stomping sounds at the same time.
Unless I have the television on, its quite audible when they are making their movement up and down the stairs in the hallway. Slamming their apartment door upstairs, or the door to the building downstairs. And when I don't have my own television going or radio on or something, and they are doing this, my cats will often sit up straight... Look around.... Stare over at the apartment door to our place... And just stare. They seem to be intelligent enough to figure out that the noises of "the people" in the hallway are from up above us as they tend to look up at the top of the door as though they're looking up. Although I could be wrong in that they can't see much up over the couch, and thus they're simply trying to look at the door.
So it will be funny when I am sitting on the couch late night having supper and watching something on DVR from earlier in the evening. Cats will be laying around or sleeping wherever they are. Although if I am eating then chances are a few certain ones (Sylvester, Porkey, and Whiskers) will be sitting in various spots on the floor in front of me, watching me eat in hopes that I will throw them something. Then we may hear those wonderful, oh so gracious, polite and well mannered A&M.....(pause)..... make their presence known by slamming doors, stomping up and down the stairs in the hallway, and so forth.
The cats will look over at the door and up wondering what the hell is going on. And I have to tell them that if they're wondering that about A&M, then they should be looking down....
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
one cat, two cat, orange cat, grey cat
No, this isn't quite a tale from Dr. Seuss. Far from it, in fact.
Before living where I am now, I was living out in the country on part of my dad's farm. See, the farm became my dad's when my grandfather died in 1995. After completing UMO in 2002 I was needing a place to live due to personal circumstances, and my dad offered up part of the farm where he had a small house that he was not using.
When I say out in the country, I mean out in the country. The rate of traffic is about 1 car/truck about every 2 hours. Sometimes maybe 2 cars in the same hour! Potato fields all around, farm houses, barns, ... the whole works. So where I was living there right in back of the house was a small patch of woods with a small stream flowing through it. Right nearby was a 'potato house', or some long structure for a different farmer that they used to house.... duh, their potatoes!
Unfortunately it was the type of setting that the low-life people in the world would look for when they are wanting to drop their animal off out in the country because they no longer want it. Excuse me, let me rephrase that. They abandon the animal. That seriously pisses me off - you do not abandon an animal. If you don't have the capability to take care of it, find it a suitable and loving new home, or you take it to the animal shelter.
Well, since I was on the farm, my dad still used the land partly to farm and the yard area right by the house I was staying in for some of his farm work. So when I talk about living on the farm, I was getting about as hill-billy as it can get. Tractor parked there. At times he had his combine machine. And assorted piles of timber and lumber, tools and other things sitting around. It was...the farm. So one day my dad mentions that he saw a cat out around the yardway that he knew was not one of my five. Was it a neighbor's cat? Nope. It was a stray. So for several days I kept an eye out for this kitty, only seeing him randomly at odd times of day. Each time I saw him around the yard, I would attempt to approach him in hopes of being able to take him into the shelter where he would have a safer place to live. (The time of all this was later in the fall, so we're talking about September or so and thus it was getting closer to the change in weather.)
Luckily because of my regular volunteer work with the animal shelter, I borrowed a safe-trap in hopes of capturing the kitty. After several days of intense waiting and watching, I finally got him tricked into the cage with a small dish of dry food. Unfortunately it was later at night, and I wouldn't be able to take him in until the next day. So what was I to do? At the time I had an old rabbit hutch pen sitting outside for my rabbits that I had at that time. Some how I was able to safely allow him out of the trap and into the hutch. I just let him cool off his jets in there overnight as he was very irritated at this point. The next morning I was encountering the problem I had not quite thought of: how to get him out. I could open up the back door on the rabbit pen, but he would almost certainly run away. So, using my suave clothing get-up that I use when I give my own cats a bath (long pants, several layers of shirts) I carefully opened up the door, managed to get the kitty on the scruff of the neck and yelled to my dad to open up a cat carrier of mine so I could put him in. Then we were off to the animal shelter.
At the shelter he was much more calm, finally being out of the carrier and rabbit pen. Over the next few weeks he actually became quite a friendly cat around me, and I was hoping that he would get adopted out. Unfortunately there came a time when several cats were having to be put down for health reasons and behavior reasons. He was among those selected. I don't know what it was in me, but I managed to convince the manager to allow the cat to have one more chance and for him not to go down. She agreed and the kitty was spared.
Want a happy ending? Here it is. That same kitty was adopted out no more than a week or two later.
A day or two later after first taking him in, my dad mentioned again that he saw a cat around that was orange in color. I looked surprised and tried to tell him that I took the cat we managed to capture into the shelter. Another time or two my dad mentioned this to me again. I was almost getting frustrated to the point of not understanding this at all. I took the cat into the shelter....how is my dad seeing a cat that looks the same around in the yard? Furthermore, I was not seeing this "second" phantom cat at all!
The answer to it all was that it was not the same cat - it was a different cat. I was able to confirm this when a week or two later I finally observed him. I saw the phantom cat! My dad wasn't crazy after all! (haha). Basically the same routine went on as with the first cat. Except this time I just took him in the cage into the shelter, instead of trying to transport him to a cat carrier or something.
I thought it was very strange and very unusual to find basically two idential orange looking cats that were probably about the same age in the same time frame of only a week or so. I thought for sure that they may have been a pair that were dropped off in the countryside, and they managed to stay together. Hopefully that was the end of it all, right? Nope....
Almost exactly a year later my dad and I noticed .... a grey cat that was hanging around. This time though it was closer to winter and was beginning to get quite cold and chilly out. I managed to catch him similarly to the first orange cat, later in the evening. Unfortunately I had no place to put him outside cuz it was cold, and I certainly couldn't bring him inside. BRINGING IN A STRAY CAT IN A CAGE INTO MY HOUSE WHERE MY FIVE CATS WERE?? I'd be surely asking for hell to open right up and swallow me up. So the best option I could do was put the cage on the porch, but managed to cover it up with as many blankets as I could afford. Next morning, took him and the cage into the shelter.
Now, is THAT the end of the story? Noooooo......
It wasn't very long at all until I began to notice ANOTHER stray cat hanging around. Going at this rate, take a guess what color this one was? If you guessed grey again, that's right. The previous year there were 2 orange cats, and now this year there were 2 grey cats.
However, when I brought this 2nd grey cat into the animal shelter in one of my cats' carriers, I got to the shelter and was about to open up my passenger side car door to take the carrier out when.....the carrier door flew open and out jumped the cat. Holy ****. How in the world was I going to get the kitty out now? The shelter manager came out and she actually got in the car in hopes of caputring the kitty. Unfortunately when she went to open the door on the other side after first being unsuccessful, the grey cat decided to make a break for it. Darted out of my car, around the car, right over to the shelter building and around it to the back and then out of sight.
Despite searching for some time that morning, I was never able to locate the cat. Not sure he was ever picked up, so he has been living out in the woods or area out behind the shelter facility since then.
That fall of the grey cats was the fall of 2006. By the fall of 2007, I was then living in my current apartment in downtown Presque Isle. I've asked my dad if he's seen any more stray cats hanging around the farm again, particularly in pairs of two. But the last I asked him he hadn't seen any. So in a way that's a good thing, because it'd mean that there probably weren't any stray cats hanging around. Otherwise isn't a horrible thing, but its comforting to know that there'd be that many fewer strays around that didn't have a home.
It is a sad situation to find a stray cat that someone has abandoned out in the country like that. As odd as it all was, and as coincidential as it all was, it was just so truly unique and incredibly strange that there were 2 orange cats one fall and then 2 grey cats the next fall. It really did appear as though each set was perhaps the same age and probably were each brother-brother pairs. Someone can't tell me that it was all just a coincidence that they showed up like that. Someone had to have dropped them off. However, I also believe that they were attracted to the farm because... I dunno, maybe animals like that can tell where there are other animals around. And on a hardly used country road like that with sparse houses located around and potato fields occuping the lands, my cats surely made a presence known.
Even if I only was able to save one cat's life and helped him find a loving home to get into and not have to spend it out in the wild where he might not have made it, I'd like to think that I did accomplish something.
Before living where I am now, I was living out in the country on part of my dad's farm. See, the farm became my dad's when my grandfather died in 1995. After completing UMO in 2002 I was needing a place to live due to personal circumstances, and my dad offered up part of the farm where he had a small house that he was not using.
When I say out in the country, I mean out in the country. The rate of traffic is about 1 car/truck about every 2 hours. Sometimes maybe 2 cars in the same hour! Potato fields all around, farm houses, barns, ... the whole works. So where I was living there right in back of the house was a small patch of woods with a small stream flowing through it. Right nearby was a 'potato house', or some long structure for a different farmer that they used to house.... duh, their potatoes!
Unfortunately it was the type of setting that the low-life people in the world would look for when they are wanting to drop their animal off out in the country because they no longer want it. Excuse me, let me rephrase that. They abandon the animal. That seriously pisses me off - you do not abandon an animal. If you don't have the capability to take care of it, find it a suitable and loving new home, or you take it to the animal shelter.
Well, since I was on the farm, my dad still used the land partly to farm and the yard area right by the house I was staying in for some of his farm work. So when I talk about living on the farm, I was getting about as hill-billy as it can get. Tractor parked there. At times he had his combine machine. And assorted piles of timber and lumber, tools and other things sitting around. It was...the farm. So one day my dad mentions that he saw a cat out around the yardway that he knew was not one of my five. Was it a neighbor's cat? Nope. It was a stray. So for several days I kept an eye out for this kitty, only seeing him randomly at odd times of day. Each time I saw him around the yard, I would attempt to approach him in hopes of being able to take him into the shelter where he would have a safer place to live. (The time of all this was later in the fall, so we're talking about September or so and thus it was getting closer to the change in weather.)
Luckily because of my regular volunteer work with the animal shelter, I borrowed a safe-trap in hopes of capturing the kitty. After several days of intense waiting and watching, I finally got him tricked into the cage with a small dish of dry food. Unfortunately it was later at night, and I wouldn't be able to take him in until the next day. So what was I to do? At the time I had an old rabbit hutch pen sitting outside for my rabbits that I had at that time. Some how I was able to safely allow him out of the trap and into the hutch. I just let him cool off his jets in there overnight as he was very irritated at this point. The next morning I was encountering the problem I had not quite thought of: how to get him out. I could open up the back door on the rabbit pen, but he would almost certainly run away. So, using my suave clothing get-up that I use when I give my own cats a bath (long pants, several layers of shirts) I carefully opened up the door, managed to get the kitty on the scruff of the neck and yelled to my dad to open up a cat carrier of mine so I could put him in. Then we were off to the animal shelter.
At the shelter he was much more calm, finally being out of the carrier and rabbit pen. Over the next few weeks he actually became quite a friendly cat around me, and I was hoping that he would get adopted out. Unfortunately there came a time when several cats were having to be put down for health reasons and behavior reasons. He was among those selected. I don't know what it was in me, but I managed to convince the manager to allow the cat to have one more chance and for him not to go down. She agreed and the kitty was spared.
Want a happy ending? Here it is. That same kitty was adopted out no more than a week or two later.
A day or two later after first taking him in, my dad mentioned again that he saw a cat around that was orange in color. I looked surprised and tried to tell him that I took the cat we managed to capture into the shelter. Another time or two my dad mentioned this to me again. I was almost getting frustrated to the point of not understanding this at all. I took the cat into the shelter....how is my dad seeing a cat that looks the same around in the yard? Furthermore, I was not seeing this "second" phantom cat at all!
The answer to it all was that it was not the same cat - it was a different cat. I was able to confirm this when a week or two later I finally observed him. I saw the phantom cat! My dad wasn't crazy after all! (haha). Basically the same routine went on as with the first cat. Except this time I just took him in the cage into the shelter, instead of trying to transport him to a cat carrier or something.
I thought it was very strange and very unusual to find basically two idential orange looking cats that were probably about the same age in the same time frame of only a week or so. I thought for sure that they may have been a pair that were dropped off in the countryside, and they managed to stay together. Hopefully that was the end of it all, right? Nope....
Almost exactly a year later my dad and I noticed .... a grey cat that was hanging around. This time though it was closer to winter and was beginning to get quite cold and chilly out. I managed to catch him similarly to the first orange cat, later in the evening. Unfortunately I had no place to put him outside cuz it was cold, and I certainly couldn't bring him inside. BRINGING IN A STRAY CAT IN A CAGE INTO MY HOUSE WHERE MY FIVE CATS WERE?? I'd be surely asking for hell to open right up and swallow me up. So the best option I could do was put the cage on the porch, but managed to cover it up with as many blankets as I could afford. Next morning, took him and the cage into the shelter.
Now, is THAT the end of the story? Noooooo......
It wasn't very long at all until I began to notice ANOTHER stray cat hanging around. Going at this rate, take a guess what color this one was? If you guessed grey again, that's right. The previous year there were 2 orange cats, and now this year there were 2 grey cats.
However, when I brought this 2nd grey cat into the animal shelter in one of my cats' carriers, I got to the shelter and was about to open up my passenger side car door to take the carrier out when.....the carrier door flew open and out jumped the cat. Holy ****. How in the world was I going to get the kitty out now? The shelter manager came out and she actually got in the car in hopes of caputring the kitty. Unfortunately when she went to open the door on the other side after first being unsuccessful, the grey cat decided to make a break for it. Darted out of my car, around the car, right over to the shelter building and around it to the back and then out of sight.
Despite searching for some time that morning, I was never able to locate the cat. Not sure he was ever picked up, so he has been living out in the woods or area out behind the shelter facility since then.
That fall of the grey cats was the fall of 2006. By the fall of 2007, I was then living in my current apartment in downtown Presque Isle. I've asked my dad if he's seen any more stray cats hanging around the farm again, particularly in pairs of two. But the last I asked him he hadn't seen any. So in a way that's a good thing, because it'd mean that there probably weren't any stray cats hanging around. Otherwise isn't a horrible thing, but its comforting to know that there'd be that many fewer strays around that didn't have a home.
It is a sad situation to find a stray cat that someone has abandoned out in the country like that. As odd as it all was, and as coincidential as it all was, it was just so truly unique and incredibly strange that there were 2 orange cats one fall and then 2 grey cats the next fall. It really did appear as though each set was perhaps the same age and probably were each brother-brother pairs. Someone can't tell me that it was all just a coincidence that they showed up like that. Someone had to have dropped them off. However, I also believe that they were attracted to the farm because... I dunno, maybe animals like that can tell where there are other animals around. And on a hardly used country road like that with sparse houses located around and potato fields occuping the lands, my cats surely made a presence known.
Even if I only was able to save one cat's life and helped him find a loving home to get into and not have to spend it out in the wild where he might not have made it, I'd like to think that I did accomplish something.
the totally true tale of Damien the Cat
(Disclaimer: while this is a true story, it involved a cat that was not my own. Primarily this is for the occasional story of something involving my own cats, occassionally I may drop in a blog about something involving a different cat. As I will now explain one....)
If there's one thing that people hopefully know of me, its that I am an animal person. Have been ever since,...well...whenver, I guess. But approaching my birthday in June of 2004 I was trying to think of how I wanted to spend my birthday that Friday. One of the things that came to mind was volunteering at the local animal shelter. Something I had been wanting to do for some time, but just never got around to it. So I made it my plan to volunteer that morning.
(On a side note, that day which was actually the day before my birthday on that Thursday was when I first volunteered. It was also unfortunately memorable as it was the day that a relationship I had been in with someone ended that same day. So on the same day, a day before my birthday, I began what would become regular volunteer work while something else dropped out of my life. Go figure...)
Skipping most of the backstory and other tales, I'll skip ahead to the one day that this entry is truly about. I was in the process of cleaning one of the adoption cat rooms that had become my staple. Open up the cage, let the kitty (or multiple kittens, depending on the cage) out, they exercise and run around and do whatever cats do while I clean the cage, set it back up with a blanket and food and water and litter box, and then finally return the kitty to the cage. Things were going along until I got to this cage of the cat that would become known as Damien.
(For the record, I was the one who gave him the name but I can not remember positively if this was before or after the following incident.)
Damien was just being his regular playful self that I had not had any problems with in the days or weeks before since he was moved up front to the adoption room from the holding room out back. When I reached down to pick him up and put him back in his now-clean cage, I apparently caught him at the wrong moment. Call it that frightening surprise that animals and even people encounter where they're suddenly surprised and the reaction is fight-or-flight. Damien, well, he wanted to fight.
Immediately he began the low growl that indicated he was very, extremely ticked off. Holding him carefully I was attempting to put him back in his cage when he became increasingly aggitated. Fearing he would turn around and attempt to slash me with his claws or bite me, I took the initiative to hold him right up close to me. Heck, its something obvious you learn watching MMA bouts on television where they get the opponent close enough to them that they don't have the room to offer up any offense. So that's what I was doing here - avoiding the chance for the cat to go on the attack. In response, he dug his claws into my sweatshirt I was wearing.
Dilemma, dilemma. I had my right hand that was free now holding onto the back of the neck to control him, but he was not letting go of my sweatshirt. Only way I could pull him off would be to expose my vulnerability and give him the opening for an attack. I ended up making the wrong decision....
As soon as my right hand let go of the scruff of the back of his neck, he immediately wanted to fight whatever it was that was holding him. So he whipped around as I held him in my left arm and went after it. My right hand.
Basically what he did was latch his paws around my wrist and forearm, back paws came up and latched into my arm as well, and he began to bite at what he could. Which was my middle finger. (Go figure!)
Immediate and intense pain. All I will say about this is that it felt like tons of tiny hooks going into my skin and wanting to pull it right off my arm. I was finally able to get him off my arm despite the pain that was increasing. Seeing as how I could not pick him up in this state, I intended to leave the room to get the control gloves that they keep at the shelter out back for the problem animals that are difficult to deal with. What was strange is that as I backed out of the room across the floor...Damien was legitimately stalking me across the room. It was though I was a tiny mouse that he was going in for the kill. This cat was pissed off.
Unable to even get the control glove on because my right hand and lower forearm was both in pain and bleeding heavily, I had to get one of the employees to go in and put the cat back in his cage. So the guy took the glove for me, told me to take care of my arm, and he went to put the cat in the cage. The "higher ranking" employee that was in, immediately came and found me in the bathroom as I was washing off the blood and heavinly INSISTED that I go to the ER immediately. They would finish the cat room for me and I should go right to the hospital. Which I did.
As long as the hospital wait was in the ER, it went simply like this. Police officer showed up to take a statement as it was "an animal bite" - something that has to be reported to the police, waited for a long time, and as soon as the actual doctor came into the ER room I was stashed in he took no time in barely looking at my hand in determining it superficial wounds that he would just bandage up. ARE YOU ****ing KIDDING ME? My hand and right arm hurt like hell and it was covered in scratched including a few deep wounds!! So in the end I was sent home with a heavily bandaged right hand and lower forearm.
I was actually scheduled to work that day, so after leaving the ER I went to work to let them know I wouldn't be able to make it in. The boss at the time Liz wasn't in yet, so I waited till she arrived. As I told her the quick version of what happened, she began to smile and almost laugh - and so was I. After it all happened, it was almost comical to think of how crazy this cat had behaved. Although the injury I was dealing with was telling a slightly different story.
Because of the attack, Damien was put into quarantine for cautionary measures. Even though he had attacked me as such, I tried to stick up for him with the shelter manager in hopes that he might get a chance. But in the end I had to concede, that if he did this to me....I wouldn't want him attacking a little child like this and potentially do more damage. So he was eventually put down. But it makes for a point that can relate to other aspects of life. One person's experience with the cat could have been a terrific one with him acting very lovable and an awesome little cat. (he was about a year old, by the way.) He could have been a total sweetheart the rest of his life and never acted like this again. But I unfortunately was the one who experienced his attack and desire to cause and inflict pain on me. Did I have confidence that he also had a sweet side? Sure did. But it was unfortunate that I was only able to experience this case of him acting negatively. None of it made him a sweet cat or a bad cat. Other volunteers could have had different experiences in handling him, or even if someone were to have adopted him. But animals are unpredicatable. And as much as I attempted to be friends with this little cat, he just didn't feel like it. Which is too bad. :(
So how did my injury go? It was fine for a day or two until it looked like it was going to need further treatment. What ended up happening is that I would require a series of doses of IV antibiotics. I opted for the option of....(squirm)....having an IV inserted into my right wrist that they left in and taped to my arm. Then once a day for the following WEEK...I went into the ER, was sat down by a machine, which over the course of 60-95 minutes slowly pumped antibiotics into my bloodstream. Let's just say that having an IV left in in the spot on my right wrist where it was.....was DIFFICULT and PAINFUL to endure. All in all, that was more painful than the actual attack by the cat!
This story was entirely true. Shelter employees can back it up, the police report on the animal bite exists, the medical records are there, and Liz could confirm that one day I came into work and showed her my bandaged up right hand and forearm and explained the quick version of this same story.
Not a very pleasant story by any means. And it goes to show that you have to be very careful to not startle animals.
If there's one thing that people hopefully know of me, its that I am an animal person. Have been ever since,...well...whenver, I guess. But approaching my birthday in June of 2004 I was trying to think of how I wanted to spend my birthday that Friday. One of the things that came to mind was volunteering at the local animal shelter. Something I had been wanting to do for some time, but just never got around to it. So I made it my plan to volunteer that morning.
(On a side note, that day which was actually the day before my birthday on that Thursday was when I first volunteered. It was also unfortunately memorable as it was the day that a relationship I had been in with someone ended that same day. So on the same day, a day before my birthday, I began what would become regular volunteer work while something else dropped out of my life. Go figure...)
Skipping most of the backstory and other tales, I'll skip ahead to the one day that this entry is truly about. I was in the process of cleaning one of the adoption cat rooms that had become my staple. Open up the cage, let the kitty (or multiple kittens, depending on the cage) out, they exercise and run around and do whatever cats do while I clean the cage, set it back up with a blanket and food and water and litter box, and then finally return the kitty to the cage. Things were going along until I got to this cage of the cat that would become known as Damien.
(For the record, I was the one who gave him the name but I can not remember positively if this was before or after the following incident.)
Damien was just being his regular playful self that I had not had any problems with in the days or weeks before since he was moved up front to the adoption room from the holding room out back. When I reached down to pick him up and put him back in his now-clean cage, I apparently caught him at the wrong moment. Call it that frightening surprise that animals and even people encounter where they're suddenly surprised and the reaction is fight-or-flight. Damien, well, he wanted to fight.
Immediately he began the low growl that indicated he was very, extremely ticked off. Holding him carefully I was attempting to put him back in his cage when he became increasingly aggitated. Fearing he would turn around and attempt to slash me with his claws or bite me, I took the initiative to hold him right up close to me. Heck, its something obvious you learn watching MMA bouts on television where they get the opponent close enough to them that they don't have the room to offer up any offense. So that's what I was doing here - avoiding the chance for the cat to go on the attack. In response, he dug his claws into my sweatshirt I was wearing.
Dilemma, dilemma. I had my right hand that was free now holding onto the back of the neck to control him, but he was not letting go of my sweatshirt. Only way I could pull him off would be to expose my vulnerability and give him the opening for an attack. I ended up making the wrong decision....
As soon as my right hand let go of the scruff of the back of his neck, he immediately wanted to fight whatever it was that was holding him. So he whipped around as I held him in my left arm and went after it. My right hand.
Basically what he did was latch his paws around my wrist and forearm, back paws came up and latched into my arm as well, and he began to bite at what he could. Which was my middle finger. (Go figure!)
Immediate and intense pain. All I will say about this is that it felt like tons of tiny hooks going into my skin and wanting to pull it right off my arm. I was finally able to get him off my arm despite the pain that was increasing. Seeing as how I could not pick him up in this state, I intended to leave the room to get the control gloves that they keep at the shelter out back for the problem animals that are difficult to deal with. What was strange is that as I backed out of the room across the floor...Damien was legitimately stalking me across the room. It was though I was a tiny mouse that he was going in for the kill. This cat was pissed off.
Unable to even get the control glove on because my right hand and lower forearm was both in pain and bleeding heavily, I had to get one of the employees to go in and put the cat back in his cage. So the guy took the glove for me, told me to take care of my arm, and he went to put the cat in the cage. The "higher ranking" employee that was in, immediately came and found me in the bathroom as I was washing off the blood and heavinly INSISTED that I go to the ER immediately. They would finish the cat room for me and I should go right to the hospital. Which I did.
As long as the hospital wait was in the ER, it went simply like this. Police officer showed up to take a statement as it was "an animal bite" - something that has to be reported to the police, waited for a long time, and as soon as the actual doctor came into the ER room I was stashed in he took no time in barely looking at my hand in determining it superficial wounds that he would just bandage up. ARE YOU ****ing KIDDING ME? My hand and right arm hurt like hell and it was covered in scratched including a few deep wounds!! So in the end I was sent home with a heavily bandaged right hand and lower forearm.
I was actually scheduled to work that day, so after leaving the ER I went to work to let them know I wouldn't be able to make it in. The boss at the time Liz wasn't in yet, so I waited till she arrived. As I told her the quick version of what happened, she began to smile and almost laugh - and so was I. After it all happened, it was almost comical to think of how crazy this cat had behaved. Although the injury I was dealing with was telling a slightly different story.
Because of the attack, Damien was put into quarantine for cautionary measures. Even though he had attacked me as such, I tried to stick up for him with the shelter manager in hopes that he might get a chance. But in the end I had to concede, that if he did this to me....I wouldn't want him attacking a little child like this and potentially do more damage. So he was eventually put down. But it makes for a point that can relate to other aspects of life. One person's experience with the cat could have been a terrific one with him acting very lovable and an awesome little cat. (he was about a year old, by the way.) He could have been a total sweetheart the rest of his life and never acted like this again. But I unfortunately was the one who experienced his attack and desire to cause and inflict pain on me. Did I have confidence that he also had a sweet side? Sure did. But it was unfortunate that I was only able to experience this case of him acting negatively. None of it made him a sweet cat or a bad cat. Other volunteers could have had different experiences in handling him, or even if someone were to have adopted him. But animals are unpredicatable. And as much as I attempted to be friends with this little cat, he just didn't feel like it. Which is too bad. :(
So how did my injury go? It was fine for a day or two until it looked like it was going to need further treatment. What ended up happening is that I would require a series of doses of IV antibiotics. I opted for the option of....(squirm)....having an IV inserted into my right wrist that they left in and taped to my arm. Then once a day for the following WEEK...I went into the ER, was sat down by a machine, which over the course of 60-95 minutes slowly pumped antibiotics into my bloodstream. Let's just say that having an IV left in in the spot on my right wrist where it was.....was DIFFICULT and PAINFUL to endure. All in all, that was more painful than the actual attack by the cat!
This story was entirely true. Shelter employees can back it up, the police report on the animal bite exists, the medical records are there, and Liz could confirm that one day I came into work and showed her my bandaged up right hand and forearm and explained the quick version of this same story.
Not a very pleasant story by any means. And it goes to show that you have to be very careful to not startle animals.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
"Pet Tails": popular Pork Chops
When I first got my cat Porkey it didn't take long before he was dealt one of his nicknames of "Pork Chop". Being a big kitty himself, and the fact that his name was now "Porkey". It was truly a matter of time. Short time.
So when I signed up last fall for this website called Zootoo.com in hopes of helping out my local shelter by earning points, part of the process could include adding your pets to your "profile" on the website. Not just listing your pets, but putting up pictures of them. Apparently, something I was not aware of, is that they have since created a photo-contest option they call "Pet Wars". This was a complete mystery until I dug around the website and found where this option is located.
Basically what happens is they present you with two randomly selected opposing photographs of pets of similar species. Dogs and dogs, cats and cats, fish and fish, etc etc. So if you select the cat option, you'll get two pictures of cats from users on the site. And below each option to click if you think "this pet is cuter." After you vote you go onto a next pair of photographs. So what happens with each vote? Each time your pet comes up in a "battle" in "Pet Wars" its like a contest. If your pet is picked as "cuter" then it scores "a win". If its not selected, then it earns a "loss". Thus, on your Zootoo page you can view your pets' current status. Each pet is listed with their site ranking (i.e. #10427 or #753 or something) and their respective win-loss record.
Four of my pets have scored ok. I don't have the numbers in front of me for all five, but they're all mostly about even with similar losses to the number of wins. One of my kitties is probably even rated with a few more losses than wins. It's all a matter of randomly drawn photo pairings. So realistically one of my cats that is an adult could be matched up with a photo of a tiny little kitten. Good or bad to think, but many people out there are automatically going to select the kitten over the adult. Heck, it happens in shelters with animal adoptions. People always come in wanting to see the kittens and consider adopting a kitten, while they are less inclined to check out the adult cats. WHY?! There is nothing wrong with an adult cat. However, this discussion is better saved for a different blog.
Four of my five cats are scored so-so on the site, except for one. Porkey. Currently at this moment I look at his profile on my page and it indicates his win-loss record is 30-9, which places him at No. 1590. Porkey??? Nothing against him at all cuz I love all my cats equally like parents love their child equally, but I would have thought that someone like Sylvester would have been doing the best as his picture is incredibly cute. So I figure it is a matter of luck-of-the-draw in the photo pairings that are created at random. AND...its a matter of people liking a particular photo of your cat. In other words, your pet is your pet but some photos of that pet make it look cuter at times.
In case your wondering what Porkey's photo is that I have up, here it is....JPG)
So when I signed up last fall for this website called Zootoo.com in hopes of helping out my local shelter by earning points, part of the process could include adding your pets to your "profile" on the website. Not just listing your pets, but putting up pictures of them. Apparently, something I was not aware of, is that they have since created a photo-contest option they call "Pet Wars". This was a complete mystery until I dug around the website and found where this option is located.
Basically what happens is they present you with two randomly selected opposing photographs of pets of similar species. Dogs and dogs, cats and cats, fish and fish, etc etc. So if you select the cat option, you'll get two pictures of cats from users on the site. And below each option to click if you think "this pet is cuter." After you vote you go onto a next pair of photographs. So what happens with each vote? Each time your pet comes up in a "battle" in "Pet Wars" its like a contest. If your pet is picked as "cuter" then it scores "a win". If its not selected, then it earns a "loss". Thus, on your Zootoo page you can view your pets' current status. Each pet is listed with their site ranking (i.e. #10427 or #753 or something) and their respective win-loss record.
Four of my pets have scored ok. I don't have the numbers in front of me for all five, but they're all mostly about even with similar losses to the number of wins. One of my kitties is probably even rated with a few more losses than wins. It's all a matter of randomly drawn photo pairings. So realistically one of my cats that is an adult could be matched up with a photo of a tiny little kitten. Good or bad to think, but many people out there are automatically going to select the kitten over the adult. Heck, it happens in shelters with animal adoptions. People always come in wanting to see the kittens and consider adopting a kitten, while they are less inclined to check out the adult cats. WHY?! There is nothing wrong with an adult cat. However, this discussion is better saved for a different blog.
Four of my five cats are scored so-so on the site, except for one. Porkey. Currently at this moment I look at his profile on my page and it indicates his win-loss record is 30-9, which places him at No. 1590. Porkey??? Nothing against him at all cuz I love all my cats equally like parents love their child equally, but I would have thought that someone like Sylvester would have been doing the best as his picture is incredibly cute. So I figure it is a matter of luck-of-the-draw in the photo pairings that are created at random. AND...its a matter of people liking a particular photo of your cat. In other words, your pet is your pet but some photos of that pet make it look cuter at times.
In case your wondering what Porkey's photo is that I have up, here it is...
Sunday, March 23, 2008
"Pet Tails": where is he?
Sylvester is realistically the youngest of my cats, and also (perhaps as a consequence?) he's also the most unpredictable. The other four most of the time I can predict many of their habits and routines and favorite things, but Sylvester is sometimes like.... He reminds me of that old-time child's toy of the windup box and the clown on a spring inside. Just when you think you know it's going to pop out, it waits and waits and then jumps out and surprises you. Similarly, Sylvester is just as full of surprises.
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The cats and I moved from a smaller residence to our current apartment here, where - while not grand in size itself - is certainly bigger than where we last lived. Thus it has allowed for more places for the cats to be exploring and to make as their lounge spots. Porkey likes to habitat the right end of the couch. Tabby enjoys the cat bed usually placed on the bed after it's made. Athena enjoys the overturned clothes basket on top of a stack of storage totes that I have fitted with a blanet inside. Whiskers....he enjoys laying on the floor mats in the bathroom. Sylvester? He has a few and its hard to ever say for sure where he'll be.Is he laying on top of the jungle-gym stand?
Is he laying in the bathroom on top of the toilet seat?
Is he laying on the blanket on top of the old television stand sitting right in front of one of the windows facing south (thus getting most amount of sunlight)?
Is he laying on top of my pillow?
Is he laying under the blankets on the bed?
Is he under the bed?
Is he stretched out relaxing in the bathtub?
Its hard to ever say. This very morning as my breakfast was cooking on the stove, I looked in the bedroom and noticed that I had failed to straighten up the blankets and sheets. I had time to do it, I thought. So I went to first begin with the unorganized corner of the bed nearest to the window in the bedroom and was about to straighten them up when I noticed....there was someone under the blankets.
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A little black and white haired paw was sticking out from underneath the top blanket. Slowly lifting up the blanket to look under must have disturbed him as I was immediately greeted with a pair of wide open eyes and this quick yelp-like meow. That wasn't a pillow, that wasn't a fluff of blankets piled up. It was that cat food eatin', pillow hoggin', tub snorin', beggin' for ham, treat snortin', sufferin suckatash and tweety-bird huntin' Sylvester cat.
I just can never expect to know where to find him next. Kinda like "Where's Waldo?" but worse.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
"Pet Tails": step in line to get wiped
Pet wipes. Certainly not something that you aim to purchase when going into a store to do shopping. It was certainly not on my “list” but last year sometime I had picked up a package of these pet care wipes that were at the impulse-section of a checkout at my local store. Heck, at the time I had my cats (still do), pet rats (since died), gerbil (still got) as well as others. Sure, I can use all the help I can get to keep them clean! However, after purchasing them they’ve sat in my bathroom on a shelf ever since. Unused. Unopened. Always noticed by its green color packaging material, but never quite got to the point of fulfilling my promise of trying them out to see if they do any good.
(I still have a bottle of scented cat shampoo that my mom had picked up for me on a trip down south like… a year or two ago?... that I have yet to use. Bathing my cats? That’s a whole different story altogether that deserves its own blog…)
This morning before work I was attempting to go to take my shower and get ready. However, as I passed into the bathroom I looked over at the bed in the bedroom and Sylvester was acting crazy like he always does. I was engaging in a conversation with him about the birds that were chirping on the street light just outside our windows (a pair of crows, btw) and he decided that he wanted to be picked up and held. So he wandered to the edge of the bed like he was going to jump up for me to hold him. Initially I was not going to, but I figured that I had a few minutes before I had to jump in the shower. But since he was not confident about jumping up from where he was sitting, he decided he wanted me to stand in front of him so he can do his thing where he stretches up my front, puts his paws basically up over my shoulder and expects me to pick him up. To understand this better: think of a little child reaching up to an adult in hopes that they’ll pick them up. So I picked him up and was cuddling with him as he did his crazy antics. But then… well….to save a few words, I could tell that he was a bit stinky and unclean. Ummmm….
So as I was brushing my teeth before getting in the shower I kept eyeing that green package of animal wipes. Sylvester, who was now wandering in and out of the bathroom, listened to me tell him that I should try some of those wipes on his bottom to clean him up. So when I was done brushing and I grabbed the package, I had to locate Sylvester sitting in the middle of the living room floor kinda in front of the couch. I eyed him, pointed my finger at him, and motioned for him to come here as I had something to show him. That’s all it took as I went into the bathroom and soon he came wandering in to see what treat he was getting. It was additionally funny because Whiskers wandered in thinking “Oh, Jay’s handing out treats! Oh yah!” Uh huh.
Coaxed Sylvester up on top of the toilet where he was at a good height. He had no idea what was going on until I had a wipe in my right hand, was holding down his shoulders with my left hand and began wiping all around under his backside.
I had to hold back the laughter.
When I was done, I threw the wipe in the trash receptacle beside the toilet and stood there. Sylvester didn’t run off immediately like I thought he would. He sat there on the toilet lid for a few seconds just kinda watching me. Eyeing me. Wondering what the heck he did to deserve having his butt wiped. Then he slowly jumped down off the toilet and began to saunter on out of the bathroom. I turned to watch him and nearly broke out in laughter again when I saw…. Whiskers and Porkey were sitting literally just inside the bathroom door watching. Sylvester made his way around them and out into the bedroom. Whiskers and Porkey remained sitting there wondering what was going on too. (Like there had to be an audience.)
“Ok… who’s next? Who wants their butt washed now?” I proudly asked them. Without a split second of hesitation, Whiskers and Porkey both took off out of the bathroom, into the bedroom and then out into the living room. No one was going to offer themselves up.
After my shower while I was getting my things together for work, I watched Sylvester sitting on one of the cats’ favorite places to lay in the living room in one of the windows. Stretched out he was enjoying the sunlight, and cleaning himself. (Did he not realize the shades were open and people outside could see him?!) I teased him about getting his butt wiped and if he was finding himself all fresh-n-clean now. Several times I got the cold, glazed stare back from him looking at me from across the room.
Hey, I wasn’t the stinky one.
(I still have a bottle of scented cat shampoo that my mom had picked up for me on a trip down south like… a year or two ago?... that I have yet to use. Bathing my cats? That’s a whole different story altogether that deserves its own blog…)
This morning before work I was attempting to go to take my shower and get ready. However, as I passed into the bathroom I looked over at the bed in the bedroom and Sylvester was acting crazy like he always does. I was engaging in a conversation with him about the birds that were chirping on the street light just outside our windows (a pair of crows, btw) and he decided that he wanted to be picked up and held. So he wandered to the edge of the bed like he was going to jump up for me to hold him. Initially I was not going to, but I figured that I had a few minutes before I had to jump in the shower. But since he was not confident about jumping up from where he was sitting, he decided he wanted me to stand in front of him so he can do his thing where he stretches up my front, puts his paws basically up over my shoulder and expects me to pick him up. To understand this better: think of a little child reaching up to an adult in hopes that they’ll pick them up. So I picked him up and was cuddling with him as he did his crazy antics. But then… well….to save a few words, I could tell that he was a bit stinky and unclean. Ummmm….
So as I was brushing my teeth before getting in the shower I kept eyeing that green package of animal wipes. Sylvester, who was now wandering in and out of the bathroom, listened to me tell him that I should try some of those wipes on his bottom to clean him up. So when I was done brushing and I grabbed the package, I had to locate Sylvester sitting in the middle of the living room floor kinda in front of the couch. I eyed him, pointed my finger at him, and motioned for him to come here as I had something to show him. That’s all it took as I went into the bathroom and soon he came wandering in to see what treat he was getting. It was additionally funny because Whiskers wandered in thinking “Oh, Jay’s handing out treats! Oh yah!” Uh huh.
Coaxed Sylvester up on top of the toilet where he was at a good height. He had no idea what was going on until I had a wipe in my right hand, was holding down his shoulders with my left hand and began wiping all around under his backside.
I had to hold back the laughter.
When I was done, I threw the wipe in the trash receptacle beside the toilet and stood there. Sylvester didn’t run off immediately like I thought he would. He sat there on the toilet lid for a few seconds just kinda watching me. Eyeing me. Wondering what the heck he did to deserve having his butt wiped. Then he slowly jumped down off the toilet and began to saunter on out of the bathroom. I turned to watch him and nearly broke out in laughter again when I saw…. Whiskers and Porkey were sitting literally just inside the bathroom door watching. Sylvester made his way around them and out into the bedroom. Whiskers and Porkey remained sitting there wondering what was going on too. (Like there had to be an audience.)
“Ok… who’s next? Who wants their butt washed now?” I proudly asked them. Without a split second of hesitation, Whiskers and Porkey both took off out of the bathroom, into the bedroom and then out into the living room. No one was going to offer themselves up.
After my shower while I was getting my things together for work, I watched Sylvester sitting on one of the cats’ favorite places to lay in the living room in one of the windows. Stretched out he was enjoying the sunlight, and cleaning himself. (Did he not realize the shades were open and people outside could see him?!) I teased him about getting his butt wiped and if he was finding himself all fresh-n-clean now. Several times I got the cold, glazed stare back from him looking at me from across the room.
Hey, I wasn’t the stinky one.
"Pet Tails": my office-assistant helper
Porkey is always so helpful when it comes to organizing and picking up things....
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Friday, March 14, 2008
"Pet Tails": firsts
Having five cats they make for five very different personalities. But all in all, there are also many similarities between them. In a way sometimes they feel like things are a competition between them because they know that there are four other cats other than themself, so they must be the first at something. Othertimes there are no competitions as one of the cats will just go and do something.
Here are some of the firsts that my cats get into:
First to get to the food dishes after I fill them up: Whiskers
First to check out the litter boxes after I clean/re-fill them: Sylvester
First to follow me into the bathroom when I go in to use the toilet/take a shower: Sylvester
First to let me know when the food dishes are empty: Tabby
First to come look for attention when I try to lay down in bed: Athena
First to freak out unexpectedly: Porkey
First to begin begging when I eat supper: Whiskers
First to come running when I go to cut ham: Sylvester
First to go and hide when company visits: Sylvester
First to come out and greet when company visits: Athena
First to over-eat themself silly: Tabby
First to go into a open cat carrier left on the floor: Porkey
First to chase the laser pointer on the floor: Whiskers
First apt to pick a fight with another cat: Whiskers
Here are some of the firsts that my cats get into:
First to get to the food dishes after I fill them up: Whiskers
First to check out the litter boxes after I clean/re-fill them: Sylvester
First to follow me into the bathroom when I go in to use the toilet/take a shower: Sylvester
First to let me know when the food dishes are empty: Tabby
First to come look for attention when I try to lay down in bed: Athena
First to freak out unexpectedly: Porkey
First to begin begging when I eat supper: Whiskers
First to come running when I go to cut ham: Sylvester
First to go and hide when company visits: Sylvester
First to come out and greet when company visits: Athena
First to over-eat themself silly: Tabby
First to go into a open cat carrier left on the floor: Porkey
First to chase the laser pointer on the floor: Whiskers
First apt to pick a fight with another cat: Whiskers
Thursday, March 13, 2008
"Pet Tails": the mouse that wouldn't die
I've said before how my cats can be finicky when it comes to toys. If they have a toy and they play with it then I won't usually find it. If a toy sits out in the open where I frequently may see it, then they're not playing with whatever it is enough. That is true.
For the most part. But there is an exception.
Hartz Toy Mice. These things must have magical powers. I can not find anything outwardly special about them. They come in packs of like 3 for a few bucks or like 8 or 10 or something for a few more dollars. The material doesn't really differ from other products. Other toy mice have tails too. Other toys have catnip. As far as durability, it's the worst I have ever found of any cat toy. Ever.
They are barely stitched together at all. The fabric material is like....ummm.....cheap or something. They can pull apart easily. They certainly do not have the quality craftsmanship of Jana's catnip products found at Colorado Catnip Toys, and they are most definitely made in mass quanity. (I mean, they are purchased in packages of 3 or 8 or 9 or a dozen or something at a time). And they're tiny! Cheap. Shoddy. Overly simple. Tear apart easily.
But my cats love them. And I have no idea why. Maybe its some super potent catnip Hartz puts in them. I don't have a clue as to the reason why the cats love them. But whenever I have bought a new package or have gotten a package for a Christmas gift or on my birthday or something (and yes, I have gotten things on my birthday for my pets from people before). As soon as the package opens, the cats hang around and wait. When the mice go scattering about the floor or couch or bed, certain cats jump after them and the tails go-a-flyin'.
The problem goes back to one particular thing I've already mentioned. The mice don't stay together. However the outter material is initially connected together, it doesn't take much for it to pull apart. And because my cats certainly love to play rough with them, in general the mice may only remain intact for a day or possibly two at the most.
But just like real-life mice that your pet cat may catch outside, once the cat is finished with it you will find its insides before you find the rest of it. Haha. The inside of these toy mice are kinda made of this crumbly material that makes me think of plaster or something. So the catnip must be treated within it. And after the outer material rips apart, it's not long for the cat to tear into this inner material and start tearing it into bits.
Bits that end up all over my floor. Earlier this week in fact after I vacuumed my entire apartment flooring, I found a toy mouse that they had not gotten to and left it out for them to play with. In a day or two I began to notice debris all over my carpeting. Was it that darn cat litter I can't seem to get them to keep in their litter boxes? Ummm, no. It was in fact pieces of this toy mouse. While the mouse was still able to be played with, I figured to leave it around for them. So I tossed it inside one of the cubes of the cats' jungle gym thing. Later that night...
The mouse reappeared. One of the cats found it in the cube and took it back out onto the floor to play with again. More debris on the carpeting. So I tossed it back inside the jungle gym, in a corner where I hoped they would not find it. Again, the mouse reappeared. Again, I tossed it back. Again. Again. Again. Again. This happened more times than I can count - and already it's only Thursday evening!
Whenever the cats have gotten these toy Hartz mice, this is always what's happening. They get heavily played with. They get torn apart. They get strewn apart across the apartment carpeting in pieces. I clean it all up and try to hide the remains of the toy mice. But it always comes back. The toy mice always come back.
Because no matter where I hide them or what I try to do with them.... my cats always find them. I could probably put them out in my car outside, doors locked, flush my car keys down the toilet. And yet my cats would somehow still be able to find them and bring them back in side to tear apart.
At least I can be sure that my cats can be ruthless killers. When they catch these Hartz toy mice, they don't stop until they are sure they're dead.
And in pieces. All over my carpeted floors.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
check out COLORADO CATNIP TOYS
Colorado Catnip Toys make great gifts for your cat or for that cat lover on your shopping list.
Colorado Catnip has a great line of kitty quilts and mats with catnip in them. Choose from tropical fish or butterfly catnip toys. All catnip toys are lined with iron-on interfacing to make each toy sturdier so they will hold up to almost any cat. Jana makes each toy as soon as she receive an order so the catnip stays fresh.
If your cat does not like catnip, she can whip up a mat without catnip just for your cat. Special orders are welcomed. If you have a certain color or design in mind, please let Jana and she will do her best to find the fabric for you. If you have a piece of fabric you would like for Jana to use, pass it along to Jana for a price to sew the item. ~ColoradoCatnipToys.Esty.Com
After seeing one of my blogs about catnip toys, Jana wrote to me and offered to send me a few samples for me to try with my five cats. When they arrived in the mail, I brought the package inside mentioning to my cats that they had mail! Immediately they all came by to see what they had been sent. I took out the items that Jana had sent and offered them to my cats. Immediately they took to them and began to investigate them. They were used to the catnip toys I had purchased from the local retail store which they only play with from time to time. Store products? Too much cotton batting inside and probably not enough catnip to peak their curiousity. Also, the store products made in such mass quanity that the stitching easy could pull apart. The toys I received from Jana were hand-made, contained more catnip than cotton fluffing, and my cats love them! I always like to say that if I can find my cat's toys then they aren't play with them enough. So if I can't find the toys from Jana's Colorado Catnip Toys right now, then that must mean that they go crazy with them. I highly suggest people consider buying some toys, mats or quits from Jana and if for no other reason than to help support a great person who clearly loves doing what she does. ~PTAWS
Catnip Toys Catnip Mats Catnip Quilts
Interested in purchasing something? Want to see more pictures and information about what Colorado Catnip Toys offers?
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Saving "Goldie" - Part 2
"...Being perfect is about being able to look your friends in the eye and know that you didnt let them down because you told them the truth. And that truth is you did everything you could. There wasnt one more thing you could've done. Can you live in that moment as best you can, with clear eyes, and love in your heart, with joy in your heart? If you can do that gentleman - you're perfect."
~Billy Bob Thornton as Coach Gaines ("Friday Night Lights")
So the stuff that I got at the local Wal-mart were these fizzy tablet things that were supposed to be anti-fungal and anti-bacterial things to treat aquarium water for tropical/goldfish. When I first put one in the water it fizzed right up and reminded me of an Alkaselter tablet the way it acted. I also added in the stress-coat slime stuff. Hoping that it'd do Goldie some good.
"...And that truth is you did everything you could. ..."
By the next day I didn't really see much of a change in Goldie's appearance or behavior. He was still flopped over to the side and kinda floating around whichever way he went. Every other second I'd see him take a breathe in and if I tried to move him around with my finger or the tip of the scraper brush he'd wiggle just a little tiny bit. Otherwise looking at him you'd think he was dead, but there was just enough life left in him that you knew he was still alive.
"... There wasnt one more thing you could've done. ..."
I thought maybe the tablets can be used consecutively as the instructions on the box weren't really clear. So I put another one in and watched the fizzies in the water. (Kinda cool!) I even increased up the air pump on the bubblestone that was in the water to perhaps get even more air exchange into the water in hopes that something would work. I just tried to keep positive and think that he'd come out of it.
"... Can you live in that moment as best you can ...."
After work tonight I stopped at the store again, this time to get some "ick" medicine. That's only known if you have had fish before or dealt with fish/aquarium chemicals. As far as what I mean by "ick". (It's a fish disease, or illness.) I came home ready to add some into the aqarium.
I was not going to let my Goldie down! I've had him since 2001 and I felt kinda proud that through all the moving and water changes and everything else that has ever gone on since whenever in 2001 (or was it 2000?!) that I got him, that he was living this long. Growing up we'd have goldfish and they've live only a few months or something. I had other goldfish before Goldie and they died, but he was still with me. I have my cats and Mr G Gerbil with me now and Goldie I had gotten before any of them. Even before Porkey cat - the first of the cats that came to live with me. Technically he and Tabby were adopted on the same visit, but Porkey was picked out before Tabby. (That's a story for a different blog, though.)
I had anti-bacteria/anti-fungus treatment. I had the stress-coat slime stuff. I had the ick-medicine. I was doing my best with my limited knowledge of fish handling and raising. I was not going to let the fishy down!
"... And that truth is you did everything you could. ..."
In case you're wondering how things turned out and where they're at now, I'll tell you. And it has a very happy and joyous ending.
"... There wasnt one more thing you could've done. ..."
By the time I got home tonight with the ick stuff and checked on Goldie in his tank...
He had already passed on. Still floating as he has been all week, but there was no movement to him. No attempt to wiggle his fins, no attempt to breathe through his gills. His eyes were silent. Goldie passed away while I was off at work today.
You may be saying to yourself....but Jay, you said that this has a happy ending? How so?
"...Being perfect is about being able to look your friends in the eye and know that you didnt let them down because you told them the truth. And that truth is you did everything you could. There wasnt one more thing you could've done. Can you live in that moment as best you can, with clear eyes, and love in your heart, with joy in your heart? If you can do that gentleman - you're perfect."
As far as my cats, my gerbil and Goldie go.... I do everything I can for my pets. I do whatever it takes to make sure they are ok. With Goldie..... I did everything I could and I know that there wasn't anything else I could have done. As far as Goldie will remember, I was perfect.
"Goldie" Goldfish
2001(approx.)-2008
~Billy Bob Thornton as Coach Gaines ("Friday Night Lights")
So the stuff that I got at the local Wal-mart were these fizzy tablet things that were supposed to be anti-fungal and anti-bacterial things to treat aquarium water for tropical/goldfish. When I first put one in the water it fizzed right up and reminded me of an Alkaselter tablet the way it acted. I also added in the stress-coat slime stuff. Hoping that it'd do Goldie some good.
"...And that truth is you did everything you could. ..."
By the next day I didn't really see much of a change in Goldie's appearance or behavior. He was still flopped over to the side and kinda floating around whichever way he went. Every other second I'd see him take a breathe in and if I tried to move him around with my finger or the tip of the scraper brush he'd wiggle just a little tiny bit. Otherwise looking at him you'd think he was dead, but there was just enough life left in him that you knew he was still alive.
"... There wasnt one more thing you could've done. ..."
I thought maybe the tablets can be used consecutively as the instructions on the box weren't really clear. So I put another one in and watched the fizzies in the water. (Kinda cool!) I even increased up the air pump on the bubblestone that was in the water to perhaps get even more air exchange into the water in hopes that something would work. I just tried to keep positive and think that he'd come out of it.
"... Can you live in that moment as best you can ...."
After work tonight I stopped at the store again, this time to get some "ick" medicine. That's only known if you have had fish before or dealt with fish/aquarium chemicals. As far as what I mean by "ick". (It's a fish disease, or illness.) I came home ready to add some into the aqarium.
I was not going to let my Goldie down! I've had him since 2001 and I felt kinda proud that through all the moving and water changes and everything else that has ever gone on since whenever in 2001 (or was it 2000?!) that I got him, that he was living this long. Growing up we'd have goldfish and they've live only a few months or something. I had other goldfish before Goldie and they died, but he was still with me. I have my cats and Mr G Gerbil with me now and Goldie I had gotten before any of them. Even before Porkey cat - the first of the cats that came to live with me. Technically he and Tabby were adopted on the same visit, but Porkey was picked out before Tabby. (That's a story for a different blog, though.)
I had anti-bacteria/anti-fungus treatment. I had the stress-coat slime stuff. I had the ick-medicine. I was doing my best with my limited knowledge of fish handling and raising. I was not going to let the fishy down!
"... And that truth is you did everything you could. ..."
In case you're wondering how things turned out and where they're at now, I'll tell you. And it has a very happy and joyous ending.
"... There wasnt one more thing you could've done. ..."
By the time I got home tonight with the ick stuff and checked on Goldie in his tank...
He had already passed on. Still floating as he has been all week, but there was no movement to him. No attempt to wiggle his fins, no attempt to breathe through his gills. His eyes were silent. Goldie passed away while I was off at work today.
You may be saying to yourself....but Jay, you said that this has a happy ending? How so?
"...Being perfect is about being able to look your friends in the eye and know that you didnt let them down because you told them the truth. And that truth is you did everything you could. There wasnt one more thing you could've done. Can you live in that moment as best you can, with clear eyes, and love in your heart, with joy in your heart? If you can do that gentleman - you're perfect."
As far as my cats, my gerbil and Goldie go.... I do everything I can for my pets. I do whatever it takes to make sure they are ok. With Goldie..... I did everything I could and I know that there wasn't anything else I could have done. As far as Goldie will remember, I was perfect.
"Goldie" Goldfish
2001(approx.)-2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
a really, really cool cat photo slideshow
Check out this cat photo slideshow! If you enjoy the cute, unique pictures you should definitely check out the other slideshows that the blogger features. Find them at:
Pets-Slideshow.blogspot.com
It's a really cool blog.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Saving "Goldie" - Part 1
Of all the pets that I have - or have ever had - the one that I have had the longest is my current goldfish. The only fish I currently have, actually. Goldie I got roughly in 2001 when I was on a kick of setting up a few aquarium tanks at my previous residence downstate at that time. One tank contained some tropical fish in a 10g tank, and another 10g tank had some goldfish.
Over the years, the only goldfish that has survived water changes, fish additions, and moves .... has been Goldie.
Sunday afternoon I figured that it is nearing a complete tank change and cleaning, but until then I'd just do a partial water change. I took a clean gallon plastic jug (previously was a Sunny D bottle that I had washed out) and removed about 2-3 gallons of water from the tank. Before I did, I actually used the wand scrubber that I have that you use to scrub the inside of an aquarium tank. (I'm not crazy - its a cheap product that you can find at any store, Wally World included, and it works). So I scrubbed the sides of the rank to remove residue and a slight green film (algae?) that has produced on a few spots around the tank. Removed the 2-3 gallons of water. Then I filled back up the jug with relatively same temperature water out of the kitchen faucet to add back in. When the tank was filled back up to the top I exchanged out the power filter cartridge so it'd be freshly operating.
While I added the water back into the tank, Goldie was merely swimming around. However as the water was poured back it, he almost had to swim over by to see what was going on. Thus he swam near where the water was being poured in and I am sure he had quite the fun with the water current in the water.
However....later on I began to notice him sitting silently in the tank at the other end. He appeared to be ok, although sitting in one spot. He was also hovering near the top of the tank - as opposed to being near the bottom or even the middle.
Skip ahead to Monday. Goldie was now looking even worse. He was more or less floating almost completely on his side. He merely floated around the tank, and on occassion when he got near the water flow from the filter he would be thrust around the tank or nearly turned over. But then he'd return to his sideways position. He was alive, just on his side. Not breathing has normally either.
This has been on my mind heavily all day this morning - Tuesday. I've had him since 2001 - nearly 7 years. Longer than my cats! Sure, he's just a goldfish. But he's still part of the family. Thus it got weighing so heavily on my mind that during a break at work I decided I needed to do something for him.
So on a break I walked the .75 miles back up to my apartment where I got my car, went to the local Wal-mart which is basically where a person has to buy their pet supplies. (Note: there are NO "pet stores" in Presque Isle that I am aware of.) I looked in the fish section for a while before I decided on two medicines/treatments. Some stress-coat stuff that I've had before, and these fizzy tablets that are designed to treat tanks for algae/bacteria. I drove back home, added some of the stress coat. Then added one of the fizzy tablets for anti-bacterial treatment. Oh, and I turned off the power filter so that it'd not remove the treatments from the water. (That's obvious.)
So now it's just a waiting game. Will Goldie recover? Will he get better and be swimming around as normal and be back to his old self?
Or will I lose the only fish that I have? Will I love the one pet that I have had for longer than any other pet before in my life.
Sure he's "just" a goldfish. But he's "MY" goldfish. My Goldie.
Stay tuned for further updates on Goldie's condition. . . . .
Over the years, the only goldfish that has survived water changes, fish additions, and moves .... has been Goldie.
Sunday afternoon I figured that it is nearing a complete tank change and cleaning, but until then I'd just do a partial water change. I took a clean gallon plastic jug (previously was a Sunny D bottle that I had washed out) and removed about 2-3 gallons of water from the tank. Before I did, I actually used the wand scrubber that I have that you use to scrub the inside of an aquarium tank. (I'm not crazy - its a cheap product that you can find at any store, Wally World included, and it works). So I scrubbed the sides of the rank to remove residue and a slight green film (algae?) that has produced on a few spots around the tank. Removed the 2-3 gallons of water. Then I filled back up the jug with relatively same temperature water out of the kitchen faucet to add back in. When the tank was filled back up to the top I exchanged out the power filter cartridge so it'd be freshly operating.
While I added the water back into the tank, Goldie was merely swimming around. However as the water was poured back it, he almost had to swim over by to see what was going on. Thus he swam near where the water was being poured in and I am sure he had quite the fun with the water current in the water.
However....later on I began to notice him sitting silently in the tank at the other end. He appeared to be ok, although sitting in one spot. He was also hovering near the top of the tank - as opposed to being near the bottom or even the middle.
Skip ahead to Monday. Goldie was now looking even worse. He was more or less floating almost completely on his side. He merely floated around the tank, and on occassion when he got near the water flow from the filter he would be thrust around the tank or nearly turned over. But then he'd return to his sideways position. He was alive, just on his side. Not breathing has normally either.
This has been on my mind heavily all day this morning - Tuesday. I've had him since 2001 - nearly 7 years. Longer than my cats! Sure, he's just a goldfish. But he's still part of the family. Thus it got weighing so heavily on my mind that during a break at work I decided I needed to do something for him.
So on a break I walked the .75 miles back up to my apartment where I got my car, went to the local Wal-mart which is basically where a person has to buy their pet supplies. (Note: there are NO "pet stores" in Presque Isle that I am aware of.) I looked in the fish section for a while before I decided on two medicines/treatments. Some stress-coat stuff that I've had before, and these fizzy tablets that are designed to treat tanks for algae/bacteria. I drove back home, added some of the stress coat. Then added one of the fizzy tablets for anti-bacterial treatment. Oh, and I turned off the power filter so that it'd not remove the treatments from the water. (That's obvious.)
So now it's just a waiting game. Will Goldie recover? Will he get better and be swimming around as normal and be back to his old self?
Or will I lose the only fish that I have? Will I love the one pet that I have had for longer than any other pet before in my life.
Sure he's "just" a goldfish. But he's "MY" goldfish. My Goldie.
Stay tuned for further updates on Goldie's condition. . . . .
"Pet Tails": my cats & me
Porkey: Jay knows I don't like it when he calls me "Pork Chops" but he does anyway.
Whiskers: Jay doesn't know all of the curious and interesting things that may happen to him at anytime here - so that's why I follow him around all over the apartment.
Tabby: He's caught on to the idea that I have to gorge myself when its food time or else those guys might eat everything in the dishes.
Athena: I know Jay tries to hold me sometimes cuz he loves all us cats, but I just don't like anyone holding me. I'm not used to it.
Sylvester: I actually have no idea why he keeps asking me if I've seen "that sufferin' suckatash tweety bird". What the heck is a tweety bird anyway?
Whiskers: If I sit nice and handsomely and stare at Jay...I can break him down and get him to do whatever I want him to do.
Sylvester: If Jay is on the computer he doesn't like it when I try to crawl onto his lap. 'specially when he has a laptop computer.
Tabby: Jay has to keep our litter boxes cleaned regularly and on time. If he doesn't, then I'll go pee on something of his to teach him a lesson.
Porkey: He knows I can no longer climb doors like I used to when he first brought me home.
Athena: I know that if Jay had gotten me when I still had my front paw claws that he would not have gotten me declawed like my previous owners did.
Tabby: No matter how fast Jay tries to chase after me, I'm still faster than him!
Sylvester: Jay shoulda left Beth when I tried to tell him that she no good. I tried scratchin' him in the face and made him bleed a mouth full of blood. But he didn't listen!
Porkey: Jay liked to make fun of me for my enormous size. But since my bud Whiskers has officially become the largest of us cats, he now teases Whisk more. ... So why am I 'till the one with the name "Porkey"?!
Athena: He doesn't think us cats could take really good care of that gerbil he named "Mr G". Come on, let him loose and us cats will...watch...him..... (Porkey! Grab the BBQ sauce!)
Whiskers: In reality, we cats own Jay. He just hasn't figure it out yet.
Whiskers: Jay doesn't know all of the curious and interesting things that may happen to him at anytime here - so that's why I follow him around all over the apartment.
Tabby: He's caught on to the idea that I have to gorge myself when its food time or else those guys might eat everything in the dishes.
Athena: I know Jay tries to hold me sometimes cuz he loves all us cats, but I just don't like anyone holding me. I'm not used to it.
Sylvester: I actually have no idea why he keeps asking me if I've seen "that sufferin' suckatash tweety bird". What the heck is a tweety bird anyway?
Whiskers: If I sit nice and handsomely and stare at Jay...I can break him down and get him to do whatever I want him to do.
Sylvester: If Jay is on the computer he doesn't like it when I try to crawl onto his lap. 'specially when he has a laptop computer.
Tabby: Jay has to keep our litter boxes cleaned regularly and on time. If he doesn't, then I'll go pee on something of his to teach him a lesson.
Porkey: He knows I can no longer climb doors like I used to when he first brought me home.
Athena: I know that if Jay had gotten me when I still had my front paw claws that he would not have gotten me declawed like my previous owners did.
Tabby: No matter how fast Jay tries to chase after me, I'm still faster than him!
Sylvester: Jay shoulda left Beth when I tried to tell him that she no good. I tried scratchin' him in the face and made him bleed a mouth full of blood. But he didn't listen!
Porkey: Jay liked to make fun of me for my enormous size. But since my bud Whiskers has officially become the largest of us cats, he now teases Whisk more. ... So why am I 'till the one with the name "Porkey"?!
Athena: He doesn't think us cats could take really good care of that gerbil he named "Mr G". Come on, let him loose and us cats will...watch...him..... (Porkey! Grab the BBQ sauce!)
Whiskers: In reality, we cats own Jay. He just hasn't figure it out yet.
Monday, March 3, 2008
"Pet Tails": Goldie and the G
Based on the high majority of my blogs that are about my cats people may assume that they are the only pets I have. True, they have the biggest presence here (hey, YOU try ignoring them when you come here - you can't!), but I do have a few other pets that I'd like to mention.
"Mr G" the Gerbil. This is probably the first ever gerbil that I have had. For many years, ever since 1999 or so I think, I've had a variety of creatures. I've had hamsters and guinea pigs, as well as rabbits, rats, fish and of course my cats. Oh, and I've had pet mice too. But I never had gerbils. Why? Not really sure why. I think part of it was that they looked different. Kinda like a hamster with different backlegs, different eyes and a larger longer tail. And they looked like they were quick little devils too.
So from my volunteering at my local animal shelter that I've been doing since June 2004, I was typically the guy looked to as someone who might like to take home some of the little creatures that might have been brought in. Hamsters, rabbits, rats, those sort of creatures. So in this one case, a lady was bringing in and I was being offered: a hamster, a gerbil, and 6 pet rats. For reasons that only I knew to myself at that time I decided I could give them all a home.
Over the past year and a half, approximately, since then the pet rats have all passed away and so has the pet hamster. But that leaves the gerbil. My very "creatively" named Mr G the Gerbil. He's still here and he's still kickin'. I don't ever hold him as any time my hand has gotten close enough to him he has bite me. And yes, it hurt like heck! I'd rather have one of my cats bite me than to have Mr G bite me. But he seems as happy as can be. Always try to make sure he has his dish of food and water and assorted items to chew on. Once in a while he'll lay in his cage on his side or even kinda contorted on his back. Is he dead??? Is he ok??? I'll tap on the cage and sometimes get no response. At the point of thinking he is dead until I take the cover off the tank, and drop some shavings onto him and then finally he'll wake up and look around for me. Its like he gets a thril out of playing dead on me.
The pet that I've had the longest out of any of them - yes, even longer than my cats - is my goldfish. The aptly named Goldie Goldfish. At one point when I was living downstate attending college I had a aquarium tank set up with several goldfish in it. I had never had much success with fish before, harkening back to my childhood days when the family had a tank of them. So it was kinda a hit-and-miss operation here. Half a dozen or more fish, some would die, would get a few more. Finally I figured that they just weren't liking living with me, so I stopped getting more. Over the next months and years their numbers dwindled down to just one. One fish.
Goldie has been through a lot with me. We moved from where we were living downstate to my current town (my hometown) which was about 2-1/2 hours drive north of there. We've also moved from our first residence when we relocated up here to our current apartment that we're at now. I also haven't been probably the best about when to clean Goldie's aquarium. The water level has dropped down before and the sides of the tank have gotten a tint of green before. But I have tried to always make sure he gets his flakes each morning, and certainly have not ever let the tank get very bad.
Goldie has had a habit - or not really - in playing dead fishie with me as well. At times I can look in his tank and he'll be silently floating in one plate not moving his little eyes or not seeming to breathe through his gills. Once in a while he'll even almost be appearing to be floating on his side flopped over like an upside down U-shape. But he'd still be alive and the next time I might look in his tank he's swimming around like there's no tomorrow.
Yesterday in fact, I did a partial water change by taking out some water and adding in some new water. Replaced the water filter cartridge, too. Last night before bed he was doing his thing again. Appearing to be floating near the top of the water line and didn't appear very active. Earlier this morning he was nearly floating on his side. At this minute he's half hiding behind a decorative plant that he has in there and he's kinda sitting upright while looking at....well, I'm not sure. But he is still alive, appears to be "OK", and is breathing that I can see.
Odd behavior like this normally might worry me. But I have had him since about 2001 - longer than any of my other pets - and he's already been through a lot of stress. So its one of those situations where I am relying on faith that he's ok and that he just didn't like the water change. I am sure he'll be ok....
"Mr G" the Gerbil. This is probably the first ever gerbil that I have had. For many years, ever since 1999 or so I think, I've had a variety of creatures. I've had hamsters and guinea pigs, as well as rabbits, rats, fish and of course my cats. Oh, and I've had pet mice too. But I never had gerbils. Why? Not really sure why. I think part of it was that they looked different. Kinda like a hamster with different backlegs, different eyes and a larger longer tail. And they looked like they were quick little devils too.
So from my volunteering at my local animal shelter that I've been doing since June 2004, I was typically the guy looked to as someone who might like to take home some of the little creatures that might have been brought in. Hamsters, rabbits, rats, those sort of creatures. So in this one case, a lady was bringing in and I was being offered: a hamster, a gerbil, and 6 pet rats. For reasons that only I knew to myself at that time I decided I could give them all a home.
Over the past year and a half, approximately, since then the pet rats have all passed away and so has the pet hamster. But that leaves the gerbil. My very "creatively" named Mr G the Gerbil. He's still here and he's still kickin'. I don't ever hold him as any time my hand has gotten close enough to him he has bite me. And yes, it hurt like heck! I'd rather have one of my cats bite me than to have Mr G bite me. But he seems as happy as can be. Always try to make sure he has his dish of food and water and assorted items to chew on. Once in a while he'll lay in his cage on his side or even kinda contorted on his back. Is he dead??? Is he ok??? I'll tap on the cage and sometimes get no response. At the point of thinking he is dead until I take the cover off the tank, and drop some shavings onto him and then finally he'll wake up and look around for me. Its like he gets a thril out of playing dead on me.
The pet that I've had the longest out of any of them - yes, even longer than my cats - is my goldfish. The aptly named Goldie Goldfish. At one point when I was living downstate attending college I had a aquarium tank set up with several goldfish in it. I had never had much success with fish before, harkening back to my childhood days when the family had a tank of them. So it was kinda a hit-and-miss operation here. Half a dozen or more fish, some would die, would get a few more. Finally I figured that they just weren't liking living with me, so I stopped getting more. Over the next months and years their numbers dwindled down to just one. One fish.
Goldie has been through a lot with me. We moved from where we were living downstate to my current town (my hometown) which was about 2-1/2 hours drive north of there. We've also moved from our first residence when we relocated up here to our current apartment that we're at now. I also haven't been probably the best about when to clean Goldie's aquarium. The water level has dropped down before and the sides of the tank have gotten a tint of green before. But I have tried to always make sure he gets his flakes each morning, and certainly have not ever let the tank get very bad.
Goldie has had a habit - or not really - in playing dead fishie with me as well. At times I can look in his tank and he'll be silently floating in one plate not moving his little eyes or not seeming to breathe through his gills. Once in a while he'll even almost be appearing to be floating on his side flopped over like an upside down U-shape. But he'd still be alive and the next time I might look in his tank he's swimming around like there's no tomorrow.
Yesterday in fact, I did a partial water change by taking out some water and adding in some new water. Replaced the water filter cartridge, too. Last night before bed he was doing his thing again. Appearing to be floating near the top of the water line and didn't appear very active. Earlier this morning he was nearly floating on his side. At this minute he's half hiding behind a decorative plant that he has in there and he's kinda sitting upright while looking at....well, I'm not sure. But he is still alive, appears to be "OK", and is breathing that I can see.
Odd behavior like this normally might worry me. But I have had him since about 2001 - longer than any of my other pets - and he's already been through a lot of stress. So its one of those situations where I am relying on faith that he's ok and that he just didn't like the water change. I am sure he'll be ok....
Sunday, March 2, 2008
a VERY COOL online store for you and your cats
For all you pet cat owners who are looking for some interesting and fantastic cat-nip toys, check this out:
"Colorado Catnip Toys" - an online store
They have catnip toys, blankets, quilts and more.
The products are affordable, but not cheaply made.
Your cats will be sure to love them!
(All of the photos and other images seen in this blog post are the intellectual property of the website owner and operator at Colorado Catnip Toys. They are merely being resourced here for shout-out purposes.)
I know my cats would enjoy anything and probably everything from their store offering! So I encourage any one out there reading this to check them out and order something for your cat or cats today. :)
And tell Jana that PTAWS (aka Jason) sent you. :)
"Pet Tails": the cheese wedge and the mouse
I am a sucker for new cat toys. When I am in a store going through the pet aisle and I see a new cat toy or accessory or something I have to stop and look. Catnip toys, bouncy jingle balls, cat beds, put-together-jungle-gym things, and more. I have to stop and look.
(Lord help me when I go to PetCo and PetQuaters down in Bangor...)
So the other day I was doing my grocery shopping in at Walmart (which I do because its either there or Stop-n-Crap... I mean, Graves Shop-n-Save...) and I had to get some cat litter. So I wandered down the pet cat section and was just looking around when I had to stop. That's when I saw this:
What in the world? Huh? Is this a.....? Hmmmmmmm.....
Its a remote controlled mouse. The remote control itself is shaped like a cheese wedge. As though the mouse might have taken a bite of it too. How cute and interesting. .... But would my cats go for it? I thought I'd give it a shot and I bought it!
If someone knows me then they know what I think of my cats. And when it comes to their new toys I may tend to get more excited over it than they do. So here I was surely setting myself up. The product itself is quite interesting. The only batteries you need go in the remote control. The mouse itself runs after being charged up on the remote control. (The remote acts as its charger.) The controls on the remote are shaped like little crackers. Why crackers are on a cheese wedge, I have no idea. Anyway......
Probably wasn't going to be the best of toys as the mouse is quite small and to run good it needs to be free of debris. Like cat hair. Huh. Cat hair, eh? Nooooooo cat hair here. And most of my apartment is carpeted except for a small spot by the kitchen counter and then the bathroom is lineolum or something. So the wheels didn't have much traction when I tried to use it. And the range on the remote sensor isn't very far, so I had to stay near to it.
Here's where my cats tend to differ along the gender lines. My guys (Porkey, Whiskers, Sylvester) are the ones who are more into the toys and play things. Its as though the girls (Tabby, Athena) are more laid-back and don't want to bother themselves. So as I operated the remote mousy it was the guys who only showed any interest. Porkey laid on the floor and watched it. Sylvester sat by and analyzed it. Whiskers on the other hand.... he had to go inspect it. Though I suppose this is the point of the toy itself. He'd go and stand over the toy and bat at it with one of his paws and then he'd fall on it. Not really fall "on" it, but he'd flop down beside it and start attacking it with his paws. I tried to operate the remote but it wouldn't do any good when he's got it upside down in his paws as he tries to eat it.
So all in all the new toy is an interesting investment. Operate of the thing is unique, the design is interesting.
And one out of 5 cats recommend it!
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