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  • November 21, 2017, 02:36:45 AM

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Author Topic: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat  (Read 659486 times)

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atirial

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3270 on: October 17, 2017, 11:12:25 PM »
I guess she's the number two kitty right now?  >:D
Thank you. I now have coke on my keyboard, and on the Matilda who was sleeping by it... (Revenge!)

atirial

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3271 on: October 19, 2017, 12:52:35 AM »
(It has been one year since he passed, and I found this on my hard drive a few days ago. I thought I'd post this blast from the past regarding just what it took to finally get Stephen's sample back in 2015.) 

Stephen has been ill. I will go into the fun of his blood test later. Right now our current concern is trying to get a urine sample, and, well, he is not co-operating.

The procedure is simple. Put plastic granules in a clean littertray, let him pee on them and then take a sample in the pipette and specimen tube.

The practice is painful.
We are on our third attempt, each one taking about four hours.

We put the plastic granules in the tray. He ignored them, so we shut him in with them. Then he did diahorrea on the lot, requiring a new set of granules and huge amounts of litter tray cleaning.
Then we shut him in a room with the new set and waited. And in the second DH looked away, he escaped and used his own tray - ignoring the fact his sister was already using it and the glares from a cat who did not appreciate the intrusion. Then he vanished behind the wardrobe, until it was too late for another attempt before Easter.

After Easter. Second set of granules. Newly cleaned tray. Empty old litter tray. Cat fed and watered, then placed in room. Me in room. Door shut. Litter tray ready.

Hour One. Stephen looked at me. I looked at him. He looked at the door. I raised an eyebrow and picked up a book. He headbutted my leg, then made a break for the closed door. I picked him up, put him in the tray and made scraping motions. He glared and sauntered off to the door.

I put his sample tray in his old hooded empty tray. I put him in it again. I discovered that it jammed the door, so he could not easily get out. Resisted the urge to shut him in until I heard the sound of water.

He got out, sat down and liked himself. The rest of the hour was spent in a staredown.

Hour Two.   He is sitting with his nose pressed to the door gap, pausing only so often to give me pitiful glances. Attempt to put him back in littertray failed. Why do I have a cat who can work out when a door should be pulled?

"Loo." I tell him, pointing at it. His ears go back and he turns back to the door again. He knows I need my medication soon, but he hasn't thought this through. I can open doors and step over him. When I come back the expression is midway between pitiful and indignant.

Hour three. Enthusiastic digging. Is he going to use the tray? No, he's just kicked the plastic beads all over the floor, turned the tray over as a finale and sauntered victoriously to the sofa, rubbing his head over my keyboard. Swearing I go to clean it up. Stephen watches. He looks smug.

While I am distracted he makes a break, jumping for the doorhandle from the sofa back. I catch him as the door opens. Extremely spikey experience. Place cat back in room. Cat glaring at me like a recaptured WWII POW at the Colditz Commandant.

Hour four.
Cat slumped on floor despairing of life. I can't leave the room or he'll use the carpet.

Still picking up plastic granules from carpet every time I walk around. Beads - mainly - in sample tray. Sample tray in litter tray. Cat in room, licking himself. Me in room reading. Both studiously ignoring each other. I thought cats were supposed to have a thirty minute digestion system? Surely that little b*gger isn't drinking his own-?

Oh frig. His sister just opened the door from the outside by swinging on the handle. Who'd have thought these two could work together. Grab cat, full length tackle on floor. Miss.
Cat streaks upstairs. I grab a tray and follow at a dead run. By the time I get up stairs there is a defiant and relaxed litle face peering out of the litter tray. I fail to get the lid off in time.

Eventual Success:
Gave up. Went out. Got back to sound of cat in tray. Up stairs at a dead run, grab the tinfoil tray, whip the still-loose littertray hood off, ignore exposed cat's startled gaze and hold tinfoil tray under his backside. Remember too late that Stephen pees standing up. Adjust position, collect sample, then drop lid back on.

Get sample to vet with hour of production as requested. Then clean room up (three times) and have a bath. It stinks.

(Dear Matilda,

Please note that nowhere in here was an ultrasound mentioned. Please take after your brother more in this regard, as we've just had the bill for your last set...

Regards,
Mum.)

Ser Lucien Liliane

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3272 on: October 19, 2017, 12:57:19 AM »
Oh my, atirial. ;D ;D ;D You certainly have a way with words!
"Ah, yes. I forgot you've taken levels in Defeating Paperwork."


JoW

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3273 on: October 19, 2017, 07:02:35 PM »
Dear Sassy,

The coyotes you hear at night are not going to eat you.  You are safe inside the house.  Feliway (cat tranquilizing pheromone, aerosol) has brought you out of hiding, but it means I can't open the windows and air-out the house on the last few warm days this year.  Please learn to be calm like your sister. 

Mom

atirial

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3274 on: October 24, 2017, 04:04:37 AM »
Dear Stephen,

Well, you certainly left your mark. We're having the old water tank removed, the one you fell down the back of six months after we got you?

Now it is out and we can see the back, there's a trail of fur and clawmarks up the back where you climbed out. It stops around the height where you switched to climbing my arm. You did a real number on that. No wonder it never worked properly since. Most cats kill birds, not immersion heaters.

Regards,
Mum.

P.S. Yes, the fur is now in an envelope for your memory box.

atirial

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3275 on: October 28, 2017, 01:10:54 PM »
Dear Matilda,

I was getting worried about you being unable to jump on your chair. Recently you put your front paws on it, then yowl until I lift you up. I thought the arthritis was getting really bad.

Today DH found the solution to the problem: it is called "Mum leaves the room". If I am not looking you can jump up just fine. If I am, you expect to be lifted. And when you saw I knew, you clear jumped from the floor onto my desk and demanded strokes.

You little con artist!

Regards,
Mum

Mel the Redcap

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3276 on: October 28, 2017, 06:51:16 PM »
Sneaky Matilda! >:D That reminds me of Mum's dearly departed cat Scampa. Back a long time ago when I still lived with my parents and Scampa was young, she got into a fight with another cat and was bitten on the paw. It developed into an abscess, that we didn't notice until it was a big swelling; Mum took her to the vet and got it cleaned out etc, but we felt guilty that we hadn't noticed it sooner, so every time we saw her limping we'd fuss over her.

This went on for a while, until one day Mum and I were washing dishes at the kitchen sink, looking out the window at the back yard, and saw Scampa walking across the lawn.

Mum: "Oh good, she's not limping! I was starting to wonder if I needed to take her back to the vet--"

And then Scampa looked up, saw us at the window, and started dramatically limping... on the wrong paw. ;D
"Set aphasia to stun!"

atirial

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3277 on: October 29, 2017, 12:29:06 PM »
And then Scampa looked up, saw us at the window, and started dramatically limping... on the wrong paw. ;D
;D ;D They really know how to pull strings, don't they?

ladyknight1

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3278 on: October 29, 2017, 02:05:01 PM »
BG: When we bought the house, we found out there were several stray cats in the neighborhood. One has adopted our yard, and us as her humans, but wants nothing to do with being inside or even contained to the screened porch.

Dear mama cat,

I don't know if you ever had a home, you are getting much better about being touched, and we appreciate that.

Soon, we will capture you, and your two kittens, and get you all spayed. I don't know if we can capture your boyfriend, but at least you won't get pregnant again.

We feed you. We feed all of you. Stop stalking the birds! Oh, and you can take care of the field mice whenever you like.

Love,

Adopted mum

Dear inside cats,

Yes, we know there are strange cats outside. We know that they sleep on the porch, and are leaving smells you don't like. Tough luck, you have a lovely home with toys and food, and now they have a home too. Stop hissing already.

Sincerely,

The management
ďAll that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
-J.R.R Tolkien

Twik

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3279 on: October 30, 2017, 03:53:19 PM »
Dear Spencer,

This is the second time in two years you've sent me to the ER with your venomous pointy bits. Are you a cat or a basilisk? If this keeps up I'm afraid animal control might get after you.

Your frustrated owner.
My cousin's memoir of love and loneliness while raising a child with multiple disabilities will be out on Amazon soon! Know the Night, by Maria Mutch, has been called "full of hope, light, and companionship for surviving the small hours of the night."

rain

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3280 on: October 30, 2017, 04:00:05 PM »
What did he do that you needed the ER?
In search of a tag line

Mel the Redcap

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3281 on: October 31, 2017, 07:02:34 AM »
Ouch, Twik! Get better soon!

Dear Holly: You are not a parrot. My shoulder is not a perch. And when I crush your dreams of parrot-dom, please don't sulk by deciding to sleep between me and the back of the chair... and definitely don't threaten me with the Pointy Endz when I don't cooperate!

Sort-of love, Me
"Set aphasia to stun!"

Twik

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3282 on: October 31, 2017, 09:22:03 AM »
What did he do that you needed the ER?

Scratched my hand, and it got infected. This morning he scratched my face. Both were very light "accidental" scratches from play, not aggression, but it's freaking me out when the first one got infected so badly. Here's hoping my face doesn't rot off.
My cousin's memoir of love and loneliness while raising a child with multiple disabilities will be out on Amazon soon! Know the Night, by Maria Mutch, has been called "full of hope, light, and companionship for surviving the small hours of the night."

atirial

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3283 on: November 01, 2017, 05:23:22 AM »
Scratched my hand, and it got infected. This morning he scratched my face. Both were very light "accidental" scratches from play, not aggression, but it's freaking me out when the first one got infected so badly. Here's hoping my face doesn't rot off.
OW! Get well soon!

(I used to joke to DH we needed to get shares in the TCP company. Nowadays it isn't a joke.)

Twik

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Re: S/O Dear Dog...Dear Cat
« Reply #3284 on: November 01, 2017, 09:07:39 AM »
Maybe I should start giving him a bleach manicure?

Anyway, my face is so far not rotting. Funny, when he coughs up a hairball he hides and looks pathetically guilty. Draws blood? That's apparently situation normal.
My cousin's memoir of love and loneliness while raising a child with multiple disabilities will be out on Amazon soon! Know the Night, by Maria Mutch, has been called "full of hope, light, and companionship for surviving the small hours of the night."