Newman

We have four cats. This one is Newman. Newman has a fetish for human clothing. He loves to drag pajamas, socks, underwear, bras,  pants, etc, all around the house.  If none of those things are available, he has no problem dragging rugs around. He's also been known to empty our dirty clothes hampers and drag the contents all over the house. Heck, when he's feeling particularly strong, he'll pull the blanket off you while you're sleeping.  He's strong enough to do it too. 

As if the clothing thing weren't enough, he prefers to drink out of the toilet. One paw full at a time.

I included this one for scale. That is a full size laptop computer he's dwarfing.  He's the biggest (non obese) house cat I've ever seen. He's the size of a medium dog.  If he stands up on his hind legs he can see on top of most of our furniture.

Perverted, but very cute...

I think I embarrassed him. He should be embarrassed!

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Dogs Are Sociopaths -- Part 5 -- Intelligence

Doesn’t a dog notice that when it goes from one room to another it walks freely through an open door? When that same door is closed, do they really think they can simply scratch through it? Or better yet, dig under it?

How about when they go outside? Even if there is plenty of unplanted dirt around, why do they have to dig up your flowers, garden, or your entire lawn?  What about swallowing rocks? And last but not least, what about that nasty little habit some of them have, that involves eating their own poop? Some dogs are not very smart…

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This is the last entry on dogs for a while. I do, however, have a few things to say about my favorite (truly) animals. Cats...

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Dogs Are Sociopaths -- Part 4 -- Perversion

Do dogs have poor vision?
I'm pretty sure that the opposite is true. So then, why do most male dogs have the “need” to hump everything in sight? It could be a female dog, another male dog, a piece of furniture, the family cat, your leg, the leg of an unsuspecting visitor, or even the leg of your child!
Many dogs are perverts…

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Dogs Are Sociopaths -- Part 3 -- Vandalism

Most dogs will destroy anything they can get their teeth into. This is especially true if no one is home to stop them. A bone or that special “chew toy” just isn't enough. They want to chew on something that belongs to you instead. Your furniture and clothing are good. Your newspapers, magazines and books are great. Your shoes, glasses, toothbrush, dentures, or collectibles are fantastic. If a dog can get to a box or bag of food, forget about it! It will tear it open and scatter the contents all over the room. If you are lucky enough to walk in and catch them in the act, they will have the unmitigated nerve NOT to be sorry, guilty, or even remotely afraid! No. they will still want to jump on you, lick you, and be taken for a walk.

Don’t EVER leave a can of spray paint sitting around when you go someplace; you’ll probably come home to some type of demented canine graffiti. Many dogs are vandals…

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Dogs Are Sociopaths -- Part 2 -- Theft

We all know about a dog’s need to bury things in the back yard. It could be a bone, a toy, or even a small dead animal it has found. I’m sure it has something to do with their instincts. A genetic skill passed on from hundreds or thousands of past generations, when they had to protect food from other animals in the wild. But what the heck does that have to do with taking your socks or other personal items and hiding them? I guess from a dog’s point of view if it’s worth chewing on, it’s worth saving for later. Dogs are thieves…



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Dogs Are Sociopaths -- Part 1 -- Dishonesty

First of several posts relating to man's best friend. Some of them were posted a long time ago when I had 3 followers (one of them being me).

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate dogs, I just don’t trust them…
Although most dogs would prefer to poop outside, it’s not a requirement. They are more than willing to do it wherever they happen to be when the urge hits. It could be on your furniture, in front of the door, or even on your clothing. They are not even opposed to leaving a "gift" right on your pillow! And after he’s done it, when you come home, your dog will dash to the front door to greet you and act like nothing happened! Like he doesn’t know what he left on your pillow! When you find it later and call him on it, he’s just going to cock his head to one side and give you a look that says “what are you talking about? I haven’t even been in this room all day!” Dogs are liars…

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I have no idea where I got this cartoon from. If it belongs to you and you don't want it here, just let me know...

Waiting For People Food

Daisy and Emma waiting for a handout

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A Fish Named Boots

No, this entry is not about shoes. It’s about a fish that defies nature. It’s about a carnival prize that won’t die.

Almost seven years ago our granddaughter Taylor “won” a goldfish at a Japanese festival. It was just a little thing, not even an inch in length. We bought one of those little glass fish bowls to keep it in. So now we had a new pet in the house to take care of. Of course we didn’t think it was going to live very long, because they never do. We didn’t want it to die of starvation though, so off to the pet store we went for fish food.

We walked in and went directly to the fish section. They have a lot of aquariums set up, with various types and shapes of fish. None of them have more than 10 to 20 fish in them. Where is our fish? We walk a little deeper into the store and find a tank with some of our fish in it. I should say we found a tank with hundreds or maybe thousands of our fish in it. It seems that our new pet is a feeder fish! I had no idea that feeder fish were actually small goldfish.  Of course there isn’t anybody in the area to help us. So we start looking at fish food. None of the pictures look like our fish. We’re looking for food for a fish that is food for other fish! We need help!

Eventually someone who looked like an employee showed up. She showed us what to buy. Our granddaughter Taylor, named the fish “Boots.” It made no sense to me either at the time. It’s Boots as in “Dora the Explorer.” Isn't that "Boots" a monkey? 

After a couple of months it became pretty clear that boots was starting to outgrow his fishbowl. So we got Boots some new digs. It was a one gallon Sponge-Bob Square Pants themed mini-aquarium. This one even had a little filter on it. It was cheap and the fish was free, so what the heck!

Cut to almost 7 years later…

Boots in now living in, and has almost outgrown a 26 gallon, big boy, “Jethro Bodine” aquarium. It’s his sixth one, each bigger and more expensive than the last. He’s about 8 inches long and about an inch wide.

He’s never been with another fish (in a biblical sense, or any other), but somehow he’s contracted the full range of fish afflictions including about every kind of parasite and bacteria known to man or fish. Did you know that fish Vets use a lot of the same antibiotics on fish that they use on humans? And did you also know that you can buy them in any pet store without benefit of a prescription? Yup! Got an ear ache, soar throat, Chlamydia, or some other STD? Why not cut out the middle man, go to directly to the pet store, and buy what you need right off the darn shelf?

Boots has received treatment after treatment and now we notice that he’s blind as a bat! Kind of hard for him to eat the medication if he can’t see it! Luckily, most of it dissolves in the water. The counter next to his aquarium has so many different medicine containers on it, that it looks like the bedside table of a hypochondriac! Does he even know that he’s sick, or alive for that matter?

All of this constant treatment has caused my wife a tremendous amount of work. She has to change out some of his water every day. I watch and I try to be supportive; I even help if she needs it… But it’s a fish! Not a butterfly fish, not a Moorish Idol, not a yellow tang, it’s not even a regular goldfish!

There’s a part of me that wants to flush the darn thing down the toilet. But I’ve been married for quite some time and I’ve learned a thing or two about having a harmonious relationship with my wife.

I don’t even want to hazard a guess as to how much money this fish has cost us. Between the medication and constant aquarium upgrades, it’s an aquarium full.

How much money do you have to spend on a 10 cent feeder fish, before it becomes an issue worthy of prolonged discussion in Psychotherapy?

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

As some of you know, my wife works with organizations that rescue dogs and cats from pounds and shelters, before they can be euthanized.  Many times they are taken from the shelters on the eve of their death.

Yesterday, she and another lady drove about 250 miles in separate vehicles to rescue several dogs. When they got back to the local area, they delivered the dogs to a group that will do everything possible to place them in homes. One of the dogs my wife brought back was a 85 pound Weimaraner. It rode in the back seat of our truck, with no problem.  She dropped it off at a "Weimaraner Rescue" facility.

The dog was in their facility and my wife was on the outside of the fence. She went to slide a bowl of water under the gate to it. But it wasn't the same dog. It looked like it, but it wasn't.  This dog gave her a nasty bite that badly ripped and tore the top of her hand.  They had to sew a huge flap of meat back on.  There's not very many stitches holding it together because dog bites (and human) usually get infected and need lots of room to drain.

Sorry, I know this is pretty graphic. It just goes to show you that, "No good deed goes unpunished!"

Despite this, my wife is bummed that she has to miss her next shift with the rescued cats at our local Petsmart. In case you didn't know, Petsmart doesn't own any of the dogs and cats in their stores. They donate the space, food, utilities, and everything else needed to the support rescue efforts of many organizations countrywide.  They are the leading funder of animal welfare agencies across North America.

Major shout out to them! By providing space to adoption partners in the PetSmart Charities Adoption Centers, homeless pets are given another location and additional opportunity for exposure to the pet-loving public, and the extra time they need to find lifelong, loving homes. Annually, about 400,000 pets find new homes thanks to this effort!

New Feline

Mittens

As most of you know, our big tomcat Batman has been gone for about a month.  Although we still have two other cats, our house still felt sort of empty.  So we got ourselves another rescue.  Her name is "Mittens." 

She, along with her five kittens, were rescued from the Merced city pound the night before they were all to be euthanized.  The organization that rescued them is "New Beginnings for Animals."  My wife does a lot of volunteer work for them and I'm pretty darn proud of her for it.

Even though she's a female, Mittens is really a lot like Batman, in that she's loud, large, likes head butting, and loves attention.  She's huge for a female, weighing in at 15 pounds.  She's also polydactyl (two extra toes and claws on each foot).

New Beginnings named her Mittens.  I thought they did so because she has white paws, but I just found out that the "lay term" for polydactyl, is "Mitten Foot." That was a new one on me.  Anyway, we're getting back to normal and it's nice to have three of them running around.

Mittens has a particular toy she likes. It looks like a toy fishing rod with a mouse on the end instead of a fish. The "rod" is made of plastic and is about 3 feet long. This morning, she carried the whole thing upsairs, dropped it next to our bed, and started meowing loudly. She wanted to play!  I guess she's pretty smart as well.

Did I forget to mention that I'M ALLERGIC TO CATS?

Two Days Later

It’s funny how things become part of the everyday fabric of our lives...

Batman always figured he knew when it was time for me to get up in the morning. It wasn’t always at the same time, but when the urge hit him, he’d meow loudly and directly, into my face from about 6 inches. If I turned my head the other way, he’d simply climb over me, and start again on the other side. Although I was never “overjoyed,” I never got mad at him, because he was just so darn serious about it. It was also funny because when he meowed like that, his mouth opened so big, that it looked like he was going to swallow his own head. Backwards!

Once I was up, he’d lead me out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.  He would stop every few feet to turn his head and meow at me. He wanted food! For those of you who are old enough to remember, it reminded me of Lassie leading Timmy to rescue a neighbor, who had become stuck under a tractor, fallen down a well, or had some other random emergency.

In our spare room, there’s a folded up comforter sitting on a couch. For a couple of hours a day, the sun shines through a window, directly on the comforter. It was Batman’s favorite spot. He would stretch out and catnap in its warmth every day. He loved lying in the sun. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t discriminate among sun splashes. He had a hard time passing by any of them without stopping for a quick nap. If there was another cat in it already, he’d just crowd them out. I walked by the room today and noticed his spot. His empty spot…

I avoided the room yesterday, but today I couldn’t stop myself from going in there and putting my hands on the sunny spot where he always hung out. It was nice and cozy. When I noticed that some of his fur was there, I about lost it.  I think the comforter will stay there for awhile. Just like his empty food dish will remain next to the others.

This may sound silly to some, but he taught me that an animal can get into and occupy a part of your heart, that humans have no access to.

Rest In Peace Big Boy

Batman

First off, I apologize to all of you whom I thought to be crazy. I just didn’t understand why you would spend so much money to keep your pets alive. I also couldn’t understand why you became so involved with them on an emotional level. In the world of my childhood, it was very unwise to be emotionally attached to anything, or anyone. That most definitely included animals.

Today I received my comeuppance, in spades…

We’ve had Batman for about 12 years. One of the girls found him as a kitten, wandering around a grocery store parking lot. Of course she brought him home. I was pissed at first, because I’m allergic. The wild little shit grew on me. So much so, that I got allergy shots for two years. He is the reason that I now know how pet owners feel and why they do what they do.

Batman grew up to be a huge tomcat. He never acted like one though. More evenings than not, he could be found on my lap. Most nights he could be found sleeping with his head on one of our pillows. If he was awake, he was probably purring. Even if he wasn’t actually on us, he’d always reach out with a paw and rest it on us. “Just to be sure of us” (like Piglet to Pooh).

In early 2007 we noticed a bump on Batman’s left hip. The bump was a malignant tumor. It was operable, but not curable. The oncologist who performed the surgery on him came very close to amputating his leg. The surgery was touch and go, but she was able to save it. Things went well for about four months, but a subsequent follow up exam revealed that he had more tumors in another spot on the same hip. This time the surgeon was very concerned that the leg would have to come off. We were very upset about it. She told us not to worry because a cat’s rear legs are so overpowered, that they can easily get by with only one of them. She added “the cat will get over it in two weeks, we would get over it in two months, and our friends would take a year.” A little medical humor I guess. It made us feel better though. He managed to keep his leg both times, but gained two hellacious scars

Two years after his second surgery Batman was declared to be in remission. We were very happy because the type of cancer he had was not curable. Everything has been great. Batman was back to his normal self and we’d almost forgotten about the cancer.

Several months ago we noticed that Batman was losing weight. We had another cat that had recently lost weight with some stomach problems, so we didn’t pay it much mind for a while. The weight kept coming off though, so we took him to our regular vet. She thought she felt something in his abdomen and took an x-ray. The results were not good. He had a large tumor in his abdomen and six small tumors in his lungs. Of course we had a thousand questions. None of the answers were good. She told us she would put him down that day, if that’s what we wanted. We were floored. My wife said we wanted to take him to his oncologist before we made any decisions.

His oncologist looked at the x-rays and told us there was nothing she could do. The tumor in his abdomen would eventually make it impossible for him to eat and poop and the tumors in his lungs were going to make it hard for him to breathe. We asked her what we should do. She said to take him home and enjoy whatever time we had left with him. We asked her how long that would be. She said she had no idea, but Batman would let us know when it was time. When he stopped eating, pooping, or grooming, we’d know it was time. She also said we’d know when he started having pain.

We got two extra months with him, they were good months. He continued to lose a lot of his weight and only started having troubles eating and evacuating very recently. We made an appointment for today to make sure he didn’t suffer.

The process went quickly and painlessly. I held him when the vet put him under and when she stopped his heart. Then the strangest thing happened. His body seemed to relax and he no longer looked so skinny. He looked like he did a year ago. He looked healthy. He was gone, but he looked healthy. His eyes were open and when I was petting him I thought he might respond. Of course he didn’t. When I looked up at Dr. Wood, she was crying also. They knew Batman and what he’d been though over the past several years.

Batman purred right up until the time that he was gone. I would have expected nothing else from him.

Rest in peace big boy...