Tag: pets

  • Today Was MO-day

    Today Was MO-day

    Miss Mo

     
    Miss Mo is getting to be an old kitty. She has trouble with her hips from the arthritis that developed there. Doesn’t help she was hit by a car when a wee thing and has lived with the crippling injury of that all her life. (I found her injured and adopted her.)

    So she has her good days and bad days like all of us with arthritis and some decades on the chassis. We do meds, supplements, and even acupuncture when needed to help her manage it. Yesterday was a bad day, a really bad day. I gave her the reserve pain meds and she slept most of the day.

    This morning she couldn’t walk so it was off to the vet. She’d injured her hip, rolled it out of socket. So they got it in did some anti-inflammatory, Vit b-12 to help with the palsy, acupuncture since that helps her manage pain, and sent me home with hopes for the best. She’s back on the infirmary in my office with fav bed, litter box, and all close so not a lot of walking.

    This took a good part of the morning. I wasn’t feeling so grand myself after settling Mo in at home I gave up being productive today and took a nice long nap. Then I got up and did what needs to be done. So that is why this post is late… and not the scheduled post. I blew off post writing to sleep after the vet run.

    Until next time!

  • Things Are Returning To Normal

    Things Are Returning To Normal

    An old picture of Mo and Rappy...
    An old picture of Mo and Rappy…

    It’s been over a month of careening from one family crisis to the next. Things are finally starting to settle down. Mo is doing much better and can even jump up on the bed and chairs without assistance. Her back left foot is finally correcting itself.

    Rappy has improved leaps and bounds. She can go potty by herself now and walk about on flat ground. Stairs we still have to lift her up and down most the time. However a few times when she is well rested she has taken them down without help and up with us steadying her back end.

    I am slowly recovering from my back injury. It’s set back by the lifting of the dog but whatcha gonna do but deal with it.

    Mike’s black eye from the doggie slinging her head in pain as he carried her to the car for the initial vet visit is healing. His back is fine but now he has a bad head cold. Poor man, he kept quiet this weekend while I worked Saturday and we both rested Sunday.

    Aaron is doing well in his AIT school. He actually called this week and we got to hear his voice. He’s making arrangements for his classes in the Fall.

    That’s it in a nutshell. We’re still the family with half of the members in physical therapy but we’re healing as best as aging cat, dog, and woman can.

    Until Next Time.

  • A Tale of The Box

    A Tale of The Box

    DSC_5655

    Okay I have to say I’m exhaustipated (too tired to give a sh**t) today. Doggie rehab is tough when one is working. Today is my first day off since we got back. She goes in for e-stim today and then when get her physical therapy info today. Though she is improving. She met me on shaky legs when I got home from work last night. She now gets her front end up when I sling her back end.

    So I don’t have the energy right now to go though the trip pictures so I tell the tale of the box throne last night…

    As you know Mr. Blue belongs to the box of the month club and he thoroughly enjoys his boxes. However, they are HIS boxes being the alpha of the animals. Last night the wannabe alpha Mr. Red got into Mr. Blue’s current box! I know, I know, I hear your gasps of horror, shock, and indignation. I too was astounded at the outright gall it took. I watched as I did Rappy’s massage therapy. Mr. Blue stood up from his chair and yowled at the usurper.

    That led to a big cat fight of screeches, yowls, growls, and posturing. He hopped down and went back to claim his cardboard throne. There was much noise and odd body postures that led to a few slaps (no claws). Red went from “what, what?!?” to challenging then to submissive and slinked out of the box and away to take the cat bed in the office.

    Mr. Blue being triumphant sat in his box throne for a long time before settling in for a nap. Yes we think no less of our feline alpha for napping in his box with his catnip mouse. He had show regal restraint while asserting his authority after all.

    Time for the vet trip. Until next time!

  • Big Ol’ Update

    Big Ol’ Update

    DSC_5940

    Really quick update – we are home from Missouri. Rappy took her fall just as we were leaving for Aaron’s graduation from Basic Combat Training (BCT) at Ft. Leonard Wood. The vet saw her quickly and had to keep her as you know. It was a good thing as mechanical meningitis set in from the injury.

    Graduation was great – photos and such to follow. Aaron looked awesome as you can see. It was good to see him and spend time with him. Good that he got to have a chance for long private talks with Sara (his girlfriend). Also good that Mike’s parents joined us there to see the graduation.

    As for Rappy, she’s improved. She stood up on her own and took a few steps Saturday. I called the vet and I can come pick he up at 9am after her PT treatment. I do have discharge instructions for her they want to go over.

    THEN I have work today on the evening shift. So good thing I slept most of yesterday – 6 hours on the drive and all night. Yes, it was an emotionally exhausting week. However everything seems to be heading in a positive direction now.

  • Miss Rappy

    Miss Rappy

    Aging Rappy wants some of that on the grill

    Years ago we adopted a retired greyhound racer. Her name is Arapahoe’s Ace but we call her Rappy for short. She’s definitely MY dog. It was her choice, not mine per se. She was gotten to be a family dog but in the end Mike and Aaron both refer to her as ‘your dog’ when talking to me. It’s okay I love ’em all.

    Greyhounds are an odd breed. They are one of the oldest domesticated breeds. Yep that ancient Egyptian Anubis sitting with ears up waiting…  is a black greyhound waiting for something.  Rappy assumes that pose when I’m getting ready for walk, the treat jar rattles, someone says something about a car ride or the doggie park.    Another of their quirks is stairs.  The have two settings when it comes to stairs “won’t go” and “full speed ahead.”

    Yesterday Rappy took an emergency trip to the vet after a terrible spill down the stairs.  She wouldn’t get up and had to be carried.  (no not me after injuring my back – Mike and Vet tech).  We feared the worst – shattered hip or spiral fracture of the a hind leg.   I anxiously awaited news at home as they worked her in between scheduled patients.

    Good news – nothing is broken.  Bad news she threw out her back.  Greyhound have very complicated spines.  Unlike ours designed for flexible stability – their does that and is designed to aid in acceleration even on turns, a rare mammal design they share with cheetahs. So they have more cushions and stuff to aid in that.  Hers is all swollen.  Vet is keeping her a few days, treating her with pain meds and anti-inflamatories while he watches her for any signs of damage the swelling may be covering at this point.

    So yesterday was a stressful day in which I basically took care of the dog and rode a very emotional roller coaster.  Today is packed making up for yesterday.  Please excuse the missed post due to emergency- I’ll have a vet bill as proof.

    Until next time.

  • Meet Mr. Red

    Meet Mr. Red

    red

    In the introduction of my furry family members we are now to the last of the clowder – Mr. Red. His full name is Puss Red but like his brother he prefers his last name. He may be the last feline covered but not the least by any means. He’s physically the largest now. Like many of us as we age the spread sits in… he was once a lean lanky Tom for most of his prime but as chronic kidney insufficiency set in so did the spread. He’s now a hefty kitty. I just say he’s a lotta kitty lovin’! Also I’ve taken to shouting thunder, Thunder, THUNDER-BUTT HO! as he runs down the stairs. Our personal tribute to Lion-O and the Thundercats .   Mike likes to use the Donkey line from Shrek 3 “Whoa that’s a whole lotta kitty! Can we keep ‘im?”  Either way Red has a big butt we can’t deny!

    He’s always been the outgoing but insecure one.  Kinda reminds me of the characters that swagger once safety has been established by the real heroes.  Except they are lovable and well meaning chickens that long to be macho.   That’s my Red.  He ‘s not the gentletom his brother is because he tries so darn hard and is so anxious to be the ONE!  He wants to but dang it’s scary.  As a result of this personality he often gets into trouble – he does naughty things to get attention.  If there’s a crash in another room I guarn-damn-tee-ya it’ll be red walking out with tail high looking all surprised.  What?  Did you hear that?  What happened?  I was being good in that room and suddenly A CRASH!

    "Are you beading?  Can you pet me?  Do you love beads more than me?"
    “Are you beading? Can you pet me? Do you love beads more than me?”

    Also he’s always had a disposition to eat anything.  That’s why his nickname is Mr.  I-Eat-IT!  He has a penchant for chewing through earbud wires and crunching up the buds.  We have to keep those safely tucked away in drawers, pockets, purses, or brief cases when not in use.  He’s actually had dental surgery due to this quirk. He cracked a tooth and wedged a piece of black plastic in the crack when crunching up a bud.  A few hundred dollars later we had a drunk kitty with a still partially numb mouth staggering into the kitchen trying to steal gushy doggie food.  The problem that had him yowl in frustration was the dang food wouldn’t stay in his numbed mouth!  Rappy just said “Ew all my gushy food has cat slobber on it!”

    For all his faults and quirks Red is a lover just like his brother.  He loved to cuddle, purr, and be petted.  He’s not a lap cat as much as a next to you cat.  Which is okay given the thunderbutt status.  Except here you know quirky tom has to have his own twist to this – he wants to lick your hands and face like a dog.  I kid you not he’s a not a kitty kisser with head butts like most cats – he’s licker kisser.  Sure it feel strange with that rough tongue and I try to discourage it or let it be my fingers.  However, fall asleep and your nose is his for the kissing.  You’ve not startled awake until you’ve had a sandpaper tongue dragged across your nose!

    Also he’s the only cat I’ve ever know with a diagnosed mental illness.   He took to tearing all his hair out on his belly.  Took him to the vet and had all kind of tests run – finally nothing physically wrong.  We began to see that he did it when a family member was gone for a few nights.  It was his new stress reaction!  As the vet said “He’s either psychotic, neurotic, or demented.  Without being able to question him I can’t tell you which it is.”  The answer is mild sedation if it gets bad.  We chose to just love love him through it as long as it was cosmetic fur damage and now harming his own skin.  When someone is gone we take special time to reassure Red he’s loved and safe.  Still even then when I was gone a week he de-pants-ed himself. So we have to watch him and do lots of reassuring.

    Sure Red is a bit odd and needs some extra care but he’s a sweetheart.  He tries to do his best and live a fun life but he’s such a fretter.  I do adore him and his antics.  He’s always sweet just trying to please you and be the alpha tom his gentlemanly brother is.  I just wish he could understand I love him as he is (except maybe minus the earbud munching but I’ll take it if it has to come with him).  He’s worth putting earbuds in drawers, doing daily pill sessions, take extra time to reassure him he’s okay & loved.  His antics and cuddles make it all worth him being my kitty boy with more kitty for the lovin’!

    Until next time!

  • Meet Mr. Blue

    Meet Mr. Blue

    Enjoying the breeze

    I promised a post on each of the furry boys.  Today I’d like to introduce the gentletom leader of our clowder – Mr. Boots Blue.  He’s a great leader with many of the aspects I’d look for in a human leader.  Like his litter mate brother he’s getting some age on him.  Unlike his brother he’s not getting middle age spread. Instead he’s gotten a distinguished sprinkle of grey about his shoulders where mane would be on a lion.  He wears his mantle well, with style and grace of Mufasa.

    He’s a cat that tends to think the best of everyone including dogs and people, yet he doesn’t lose his own caution that such can be dangerous.  ‘You are poised to be my friend unless your actions make that impossible’ is his initial stance.  Unlike Miss Mo who figures everyone is out to hurt her until they earn her trust.  He welcomes people into our home and greets them with a friendly “meow-meow” said very quickly.

    Ahh, there is his shortcoming, he’s the Mike Tyson of toms.  He’s big, he’s burly, he’s fit, he has a high pitched voice of a kitten.  Yes, his greeting sounds like that of a kitten but one look and you know you’re dealing with an able tom.  Still, many masculine males in the world have had to deal with high voices.  Poor Blue is just one of them.

    Happiness is a warm loving home

    He’s very magnanimous about sharing his affection.  If it’s the two of us (humans) at night relaxing in front of the tv, Mr. Blue will be sure that he shows affection to everyone in the room.  Even Rappy gets an acknowledging head butt (a sign of kitty affection equal to a human kiss on the cheek) and happy upright tail shake on departure (a kitty sign of marking territory – thank goodness he’s neutered!).  He’s mostly in Mike’s lap and just like Mo is my cat, Blue is Mike’s.  Still if it’s a lazy football Sunday, Blue is sure to periodically come over to my lap to give and receive affection.

    He’s the only house cat we have that has an interest in going outside.  Mo is too much of a sacredly cat to go out, bad things happened to her out there.   Blue desires to be a great hunter, despite coming to us in a declawed state.  He’s the only one that has ever caught a rodent. He and his brother were great mole cricket hunters at our house in Oak Ridge.  Blue’s great rodent kill is fodder for yet another post on another day.

    Mr. Blue has become more vocal in his old age.  I think he’s become secure in his clowder leadership (which includes Rappy who considers Blue a pack senior and me the pack leader) and thus comfortable with his kitteny voice.  I’m big on talking to my cats and responding to their talking to me.  We develop tones and mixture of words and kittyese to communicate.  He calls for me with two quick mews – short and choppy but cheerful, unlike Mo’s call for me that’s long and sounds like a scared MOM!  If he wants a door opened it’s commanding yowl with an upward lilt at the end.  If I ignore it, like say his wanting to go out on the screened in porch when it’s too cold out.  The ending lilt goes away and it sounds more like a backyard fence cat.  If I tell him no, he’ll leave the front door but not the door to the basement, there he’ll paw it – “Woman MY bathroom is DOWN THERE and I HAVE TO GO!”

    Shoes-day with Blue

    The interesting thing is when Aaron is gone, Blue doesn’t ask to go upstairs.  Aaron’s room is upstairs.  When Aaron is there and for a few days after Aaron leaves, Blue will ask to go up.  If Aaron’s here I’ll let Blue up to say hi.  If Aaron’s gone we’ll have a human/kittyese conversation to that effect.  Then he’ll walk away happy not the disgusted stomp away like he does when the porch is cold and he’s denied entry.

    Over all Mr. Blue is our brave gentleman tom.  He adores Sara and treats her as an honored member of the family.  He loves to follow her about with happy purrs and chirps.  I love to see him regally content on Mike’s lap in the evenings.  They both just exude contended happiness and security.

    Here’s to the honorable Mr. Boots Blue (who rarely uses his first name) long may he reign as king of our clowder.  Until next time!

  • Meet The Furry Boys

    Meet The Furry Boys

    Honestly my furry boys each deserve their own post.  They are two distinctive personalities.  Still they share the same origin story of how they came to be part of our family.  So despite being two fine feline fellas they will get three posts.  One on their origin story and one each on their unique personalities.

    It all started when I struck up a friendship with a single mom of seven where I used to work.  She was younger than me and had this weight of responsibility on her shoulders.  Long story short through a series of tragic happenings she wound up being the sole parent of these kids ranging in age from 19 to 5.  She was working hard as were the older kids to make ends meet.  Then an better opportunity happened – except the job was in California. I was asked to foster her two cats until she got settled there.  Then the plan was to send them out to the family. I couldn’t say no.

    Who spilled the catnip?  Don't care dude just enjoy until mom cleans it up!
    Who spilled the catnip? Don’t care dude just enjoy until mom cleans it up!

    That’s how two 1 year old cats named Puss and Boots came to be part of our household.  They had become part of her household due to her finding them.  You see P&B came in a shipment of radioactive waste to a processing facility.  When they were discovered due to their mewling they were quickly rescued by the workers one of which being the single mom.  The kitties were dubbed Puss and Boots as they moved through the decontamination process. My friend was the one in charge of the process.  Once complete the decision was to the pound with them or to a home.  Being like me unable to turn away that cute needy kitten face – the two came home to the crowded house with seven kids.

    Now they were in our home with us, Mo, and Belle (an elderly golden lab).  I have to say the furry boys were shy at first staying in the basement and work room.  We didn’t push just made the main floor available  to them when they wanted.  Puss (aka Blue) was the first to come up and meet us all.  Within a week he was at home, it took Boots (aka Red) a few more weeks due to the dog but he came around.

    We’d had them for some time and gotten a few checks from my friend for the expenses of the boys.  Then the letter came that she just couldn’t take them back.  The expense of getting them out there and managing that was more than she could do with her large family.  She guessed they’d have to go to the pound any way.

    Oh no!  They’d been in our home and become part of our family during the months between.  There was no way I’d ship them off to an uncertain future.  These were my furry boys!  So I let her know they were a part of our family now and we’d be more than happy to keep them.  She was relieved they’d found a forever home.

    Thus they were ours and got collars with names on them and our address as contact information.  Back in those days they looked very much alike so the quickest way to tell them apart from a distance was by their collar color.  Boots had a blue collar and Puss had a red one.  Eventually as they grew into manly feline maturity and out of the long legged gawky stage the no longer looked cutesy like Puss and Boots names so they came to be called Blue and Red.  More manly nicknames that suited their maturity and their new collars for beefy necks bore the names Mr. Puss Blue and Mr. Red Boots  to recognize that they were indeed full grown cats.

    "Sorry Bro only room for one now that middle age spread has set in."
    “Sorry Bro only room for one now that middle age spread has set in.”

    The two were always and still are best buddies.  Early on they would always travel in the same carrier to the vet.  You couldn’t take one without the other going too or both would wail themselves sick for the missing brother.  I guess when you’d been through what they had been through but always had your brother at your side – separation even for a check up at the doctor’s is traumatic.  They eventually grew out of it and prefer the full carrier for the more full bodies of the mature feline.

    Today they are edging into senior citizen territory.  Still they are active healthy cats.  They still romp together and groom each other.  They talk to one another and me.  They curl up and sleep together but it takes the couch or a bed for it the chair is just too cramped for two to doze comfortably.  Blue is definitely the leader, the Alpha of the clowder.  Red is the mischievousness follower.  As I said at the start each is his own feline. I’ll tell you more about each in their own post.

    Until Next Time!

  • Meet Miss Mo

    Meet Miss Mo

    Miss Mo

    Sorry I missed posting yesterday but I was recovering.  Monday had a follow up with the surgeon, things are going well but healing more slowly than he expected.  Eh, I felt fine until he poked me – then I was sore.  The next day I worked a double shift – 10 hours on my feet.  So yesterday was spent recovering.  Now I’m good to go!  So excuse the missed day I have a doctor’s note.

    I promised way back when I introduced my furry entourage that I’d fill in each’s individual story.  Today let me tell you about Miss Mo our senior entourage member.

    Actually Mo is short for Mohican as she’s the sole survivor of her litter. The Last Mohican if you will.  It all started when I was taking our dear Popcorn (a Siamese kitty we had for 17 years) to the vet for a pain shot.  She was dying of intestinal cancer the best we could do was manage her pain and watch for signs that it was the end.  As I’m pulling into the vet’s parking lot I dodge the mashed box in the road.  Just as I turn I see a cute tabby kitten face peep out of the open edge of the box. OMG there’s a baby kitten in there!  I stopped and grabbed the box.

    Teenage Miss Mo with her distinctive tail
    Teenage Miss Mo with her distinctive tail

    I struggled into the vet’s with the nasty disintegrating box that had more than one kitten in it, some not moving and a yowling Popcorn in her carrier.  Popcorn was never one not to vocalize her opinions, especially when she wasn’t treated as the Queen she was.  I explained to the receptionist what the box was she looked in and quickly disappeared with it to the back.  Popcorn and I took our seats in the waiting room.

    There had been five kittens in the box when it was taped shut and dumped in the road in front of the vet’s office.  Two survived the hit by a car who probably never knew there was life in that box.  The vet made me a deal – he’d treat the survivors if I’d give them a home or find them a home among those I trusted.  He knew I took good care of my pets and if I couldn’t provide a home I’d not let them go to one that wasn’t up to my standards.  I agreed.

    Only the female tabby whose face I saw in the opening made it.  She had a broken pelvis.  She lost her plume of a tail.  She had a respiratory infection that was so bad her sinus infection abscessed out her jaw.  Such a horrid 6 weeks of life she’d had. When she was ready she came home but had to be restricted to a small space while her pelvis healed.  A good friend loaned her extra large dog carrier for the purpose.  There Miss Mo got an efficiency apartment.  Tiny litter pan in the back, bed in the front, food bowls opposite the bed.  She did well but wasn’t fully weaned so I had to feed her with a nursing bottle twice a day as she adapted to cat food.

    To our joy and Popcorn’s chagrin Mo became a healthy romping kitten.  Oh when we were around PC would act all Archie Bunker grump to the kitten but there were moments when she didn’t know I was looking I’d see her groom the kitten as they curled up together in a chair.  PC slept at my feet and Mo slept by my shoulder on nights Mike was away.  As PC became more ill I was grateful for the new joyous life to lift her spirits and ours.  I can’t say it eased the pain when the cancer won, but it was better to come home to house that still had a kitty presence.  One that I knew PC loved despite not ever admitting it openly to me.

    Miss Mo and Mr Boots Red wait for their nightly pills
    Miss Mo and Mr Boots Red wait for their nightly pills

    Mo is still skittish of strangers but trusts me implicitly.  I have to say I treasure that trust and like to think I redeemed humanity a bit in one kitty’s eyes.  Her rough start has haunted her all her life but it’s not slowed her down.  She’s knock-kneed in her back legs making her running look more like hopping and her walk look so prissy.  Her tail is a powder puff instead of a full plume.  She eats from the side of her mouth that didn’t abscess at such an early age because the jaw is stronger there. Arthritis set in early due to all the bone damage, which meant regular meds to manage it.  She now has kidney problems because they were always less than optimum from the damage but now that’s complicated by renal insufficiency from old age.  Another daily pill is required to manage that. Still none of this stopped her from feeling safe in her home and enjoying being a kitten and later a cat.

    We got Mo when Aaron was in first grade.  When it was time to take her in to be spay I explained to Aaron that Mo was having surgery to be “fixed.”  When we picked her up at the vet I was paying (he only billed me cost for his Miracle Kitty) and Aaron was on the floor peering into the carrier.  From the floor came shout, “Hey MOM!  They didn’t fix her – her tail is still too SHORT!”  The whole office laughed!

    Mo is now comfortable enough to boot the dog from her bed.  Home is the SAFE place.
    Mo is now comfortable enough to boot the dog from her bed. Home is the SAFE place.

    Now Miss Mo is in her senior years being the rich old age of 12 despite all her set backs.  She’s a wisp of a kitty struggling to keep weight on, but still on good days she romps with Mr. Puss Blue.  She still rather do the steps herself thank-you and the litter box belongs in the laundry room no second one on this level is acceptable.  She has a ramp to her bed and steps to her perch.  She’ll jump into chairs on good days and yowl for help to get there on bad ones.  Real bad ones she sleeps on her blanket where two radiators meet in living room.  In the winter she burrows into blankets to sleep, keeping old damaged bones warm.  So check the folds of that Afghan before sitting on it.  She still plays with her pompom toys and grooms them – we call them her babies.  She’s as vocal as Popcorn was once she mastered the ability to make a noise after recovering from the abscess years ago.  Today she likes her cuddles first thing in the morning.  She sits patiently and takes her pills in the evening to snap up the treat chaser.  She’s even taught Mr. Boots Red (who now has to take a pill nightly) just how this med thing is done.

    Here’s to many more years with our precious wisp of a survivor.  Until next time!