Thursday, October 1, 2015

Interloper Update

HA!  We are having the last word!  In my last post (before Tigger stole the keyboard from me and whined about his stupid furs), I mentioned that an interloper has arrived.  We are still not happy.

Lil' Miss Fuzz seems to play with her sometimes, and sometimes, so does Nugget, but mostly, we are ready to pounce.  We are making very sure that she stays confined to the front of the house, and does not get to go into the peeps' rooms down the hallway.

In fact, we even forced mom to buy another litter box which has to be in the dining room, and mom hates that. She started out with a box there for her, and slowly moved it along until she had Shadow using the bathroom boxes, but we fixed that in a hurry! 

Now, Shadow will not use our boxes in the bathrooms, mainly because we won't let her in the hallway! So, she was doing her business on the dining room carpet, and mom was really mad.  We win!

And now, because that box is there, we use it as well, just to be sure she knows her place in this house.  Which is, of course, not in this house!  We hope mom and dad will throw her back outside.

If they carry her back to the bedrooms, she will explore a little bit, but then, one of us will come in, and make her feel like she has to get out of there, and then the rest of us are stationed all along the hall, and she has to run the gauntlet to get by all of us without getting whapped or hissed at.

If she spends all day hiding under the dining room table, that's fine with us.  Mom and dad scold us, and tell us to 'be nice,' but we don't listen.  I think I will put an ad on e-bay for a cheap cat.

Jigsaw Puzzle, Esq.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Tigger is Annoyed

Dis is Tigger speaking.  I iz not happy.  I haz not been feelings good, and mom and dad are stuffing nasty-tasting stuff in my mouf every morning and evening.  Yuck!

Then, I keep gettin stuffed in mai carrier and took to da V-E-T.  Today, wuz furry humiliating.  Dey cutted off all mai belleh furz and smeered some cold goo all offur mai belleh, and goin round and round wif some kind of ball thingy.

It didn't hurt, but I wuz not happy.  How long will it takes for mai furz to grow back?  I iz nekkid underneath.  Iz not funny.

Signed, Da Tigger

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Another Interloper!

Mom and dad are in the dog house again!  Well, wait; we don't have a dog, so how can we put them there?  That's a funny thing to say, don't you think?

But there is another new kitty living here.  Oh, it all started out innocently enough; they took pity on her because she was outdoors, and it was getting toward winter last year.  And she's a tiny thing.  Poor kitty.

Then, they started stealing our foods to take out to give this stranger.  We hissed and batted at her though the window, but it made no difference.  And then, they made her a shelter from the cold outside.

That was fine.  Then she disappeared for a while.  It turns out, they had put her inside the shop with Patches.  She wasn't gone at all.

The next thing we know, they are bringing her inside our space a few times a week.  Our space!!   The nerve of these humans!  We hissed our displeasure, and we were scolded, told to "be nice; she's a guest."  

Guest, my tail fur!  Pretty soon, she was inside more and more, and now, if you can believe it, she lives here!  The outrage!  

I guess some of us have sort of come to terms with her being here, but we aren't really all that thrilled.  She's a gray kitty, and the humans think she's mostly what they call a "Russian Blue."  She's little, but she can dish out some pretty solid paw-whaps.  They named her "Shadow."

Here is her picture.  

Shadow lurking near OUR cat tree...

It was a few months after this girl arrived that Patches crossed the Rainbow Bridge, so our count is stable at 7 cats. 

 The humans claim they love us all; and all cats.  Should we believe them?  I hope they don't try to make all cats live here.  We don't have room.  What do you think?

Jigsaw Puzzle, Esq.  
Official Spokescat

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Update on Tigger

What with the upset over losing Patches, and numerous other unfortunate distractions in our personal lives, Mom forgot to allow me to write a post about Tigger.

He is doing much better, and is now on medication.  At first, he had to take it every day, then the dose was cut to just half a pill, then half a pill every other day.  After that, it was half a pill every three days, but it turned out, he could not maintain on that dosage, and began throwing up again.

All the while he was also on a special prescription diet food, and none of the rest of us were allowed to have any, because Mom said it was very expensive.  I don't know what that means, exactly, but I think it has something to do with the humans' green papers.

So, Tigger is back on the every-other-day pill dose, and it looks like he will have to take that medicine for the rest of his life.  Something about an irritable stomach or something in his insides.  I don't know; I'm not a doctor, just a cat reporter.
Tigger on his trunk 

And Mom says she cannot afford the 'spensive food for him, and he is back eating with the rest of us, and seems to be fine.  So it was the medicine and not the food that helped him.  Mom is relieved about that, because the medicine is not so very many green papers.

Tigger is still a lot thinner than he was, but he is not so skinny as he got for a while, either.  He has put back some of his weight, and the v-e-t- said that was a good thing.  I guess.  We still hiss at each other.  

Jigsaw Puzzle, Esq., reporting

Friday, March 27, 2015

A Heartfelt Thanks From the "Paws" Crew

We all wish to thank everyone who has left such kind and comforting comments on Patches' passing.

It really means so very much.  There are still some rough days, as we come across the various "firsts" without her, but we know she is running free now, as a kitty should, with no more meds and no more seizures.

We promised to tell Patches' story, and this is as good a time as any.  I turn the keyboard over to Mom.

Signed, Jigsaw Puzzle, Esq.

Patches' Story:

It was 1998, and my current husband and I had been together about a year (though we were not yet married).  In September of that year, my mother died, and I was devastated.  Her death was very sudden, and I was unprepared. Being an only child, Mom and I were very close; she was my best friend.

As the holidays approached, my sweetie suggested we adopt a kitten.  He thought it would help me recover. I have always loved cats, and my first-ever kitty crossed the Bridge when my kids were in junior high school. It was time for a new furry friend.

We already had a dog I had brought with me, but a kitty would complete the family.  Since both of us already had adult children by prior marriages, and had no desire at middle age to start anew, pets were the perfect family to have.  
We arrived at the store that was hosting the rescue agency's adoptive kitties, and we saw this adorable little gray kitten, climbing the cage door.  We asked to see her, and when they opened the cage, she did not let go, and rode the door all the way out!  We were instantly smitten.  What a fun, spunky little kitty!  
The dog, Delila, and new kitten, Patches

And there the "nice" ended.  We were informed that we could not take her home until she had been spayed.  While we are fully on-board with spaying and neutering pets, we protested that we would take care of it, as she was SO tiny.  She was under a pound, and fit in the palm of my husband's hand.  (The veterinary standard is currently 2 pounds/2 months of age.  It used to be 6 months.)  We lost the argument, and were told we could pick her up in 2 days' time, which we did.
Patches' first close-up
It wasn't 2 days after that, that hubby called out to me to "Come, quickly!  Something's wrong with the cat!"  I ran out to the living room to see him holding her, and she'd gone stiff as a board, staring off at nothing.  After a moment, she recovered, and went back to her playful self, but it was not to last.  As the week wore on, she began to have seizures.  Full blown grand-mal seizures. 

We contacted the rescue agency.  They agreed to have the vets who had done the spay surgery look at her.  They did not diagnose epilepsy, and wanted no part of any blame for her condition, instead claiming it was some obscure congenital problem such as a "liver shunt."  We could take her to UC Davis Veterinary College for test and treatment, they said, (at a cost of hundreds of dollars we did not have). They offered to give our money back, and have her put down, but we had already fallen in love with her, and did not see that as a reasonable option. We declined, and took her to our own vet.  They did not much better, and poor Patches continued to have major seizures.  We could not get through a week without her having at least 3!  

The foster family was contacted, and asked if she'd shown any signs of seizures while she was with them.  She had not.  Since I now volunteer with just such a foster organization, I know how the system works.  Such a kitten would be culled as "unadoptable," and put down, not offered for adoption.  So we knew that the problem was with the too-early-too-small spaying:  they'd overdosed her on anesthesia, and caused brain damage, and did not want to admit to this.

In between, she was a playful, silly, normal kitten and we loved her so much.  She made us laugh with her antics.
She used to climb up hubby's back and sit on his head!

Here she is, scrounging for doggy leftovers!
We continued to insist they give her medicine for epilepsy, and it took over a year of arguing with them, (by which point we'd had our wedding), and hubby finally telling them off with, "Look--I had an uncle who had epilepsy.  I know what an epileptic seizure looks like, and this cat has epilepsy!"  Finally, they gave in, and prescribed the medication.  It helped a lot.  We were finally able to have our kitty back, and only a rare breakthrough seizure.

However, the drugs had the side effect of rather turning her into a zombie; she slept most of the time--even more than cats normally sleep.  They killed her playful spirit, and over time, she even forgot how to purr. But she loved to lay in 'sunspots' on the carpet, and sometimes, we'd take her out in the yard with her harness and leash. She had turned into a very beautiful cat, and in her lucid times, rewarded us with blissful expressions when we'd pet and groom her; she had medium-long fur, and it did need brushing, which she seemed to enjoy.

She was some kind of acrobat in her sleep, for she would often be found napping in very strange positions:

Patches "Yoga-napping;"  she is full-grown here
Another year went by, and we thought she might enjoy having another kitty playmate, so we adopted, as a kitten, our big, fluffy, orange Maine Coon mix, Tigger.  He was very playful, and tried to play with Patches, but sadly, her medications had dulled her play instinct to the point she would almost ignore him, unless he bounced right into her face--which he often did--it's how he got his name:  because "..bouncing is what Tiggers do best!"  (From Winnie the Pooh.)

Tigger and Patches, years later
When we moved to where we live now, of course we brought our dear fur friends with us, Delila (Dee-Dee) the dog, and Patches and Tigger.  Sadly, Dee-Dee passed away only a year later.  At that time, though, we had already agreed to adopt two kittens from the lady across the street who'd been taking care of some ferals.  Enter Munchkin and Soot, half-sisters.  Patches needed her meds adjusted, and a second one added, because she was starting to have more break-throughs.  It really threw her into zombie mode.  She rarely did anything but eat and sleep.  She forgot how to play, but she still enjoyed grooming and being petted and loved on.

After another few years, we discovered that cannabis butter controlled her seizures as well as the hard drugs, and did not turn her into a zombie, so that was her medicine for the last 4 years of her life. We had a 'real kitty' back again.  She would walk and walk and walk around and around the house, exploring, and sometimes even taking a swipe at a toy.

Sadly, we had to still give her the 'hard stuff' overnight, as the natural medicine wore off in about 6 hours, and we were asleep longer than that.  Later on, she began to forget where the litter box was, and there were just far too many accidents on the carpet, and we had the devil's own time ridding the house of the smell of cat pee.  It was then that she was "banished" out to the shop/garage, for concrete is much easier to keep clean.  She still got taken out to enjoy the sun every so often, and liked to wander the yard on her leash.

No worries, though; it was a safe, secure place for her to be, as we built it ourselves, and it is a very secure building, with custom-made reinforced barn doors, no windows (for anti-theft security), and central heat and air! With her bed and blankie and food, she was content to roam around the shop just as she had the house, as by that time, she was pretty much ignoring any of the other kitties anyway.  (We now had 7 cats, counting Patches!)  She just marched around, doing her own thing.

She would be visited, fed, petted and loved and groomed all the same.  I felt bad that she had to be out there, but really, it was the best option for her, as she'd gone from ignoring the others to being rather grumpy with them.  And boy, could she swear!  She'd put a sailor to shame!  You should have heard her when she had to have a bath, after having a seizure, during which she often lost bladder control.  You'd have thought we were torturing a small child, the way she complained.

She lived out her last 2 years in the shop, as loved and treasured as she ever was.  But in the last couple of weeks, she went down hill rapidly. The medicines, even the strong ones, stopped working at all, and she was having several seizures a week, sometimes more than one in a day.  On her final day, it all went south.  She would not stop having mini-quakes, and her eyes were glassy and dilated, not properly reactive to bright light.  She stopped responding to petting and chin rubs; she just wasn't "in there" anymore.  It was time.  

I took her outside, and sat with her in my lap in the sun one last time, and told her what a wonderful kitty she was, and how much we loved her,  before it was time for her final appointment at the vet to help her cross the Rainbow Bridge.

(Photo taken about 4 years ago)

 Hubby and I are both very sad.  Even though we dearly love all our other kitties, Patches was special; she was our very first pet we got together.
Thank you for reading her story.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

A Sad Day for the Paws Crew...

Our hearts are heavy today, and we are all working hard at being extra silly to try and cheer up Mom and Dad.  This post is blue for their blue feelings.

Today, Patches had to be helped to cross the Rainbow Bridge.  She was 16 years old, and had epilepsy all her life.  She's been on strong medications for all those years, and they just stopped working for her.
This photo is from her younger days, when she fell asleep playing with her rope toy.

This week, she's had lots of break-through seizures, and was loosing her ability to stand up and walk around. She would pee right where she was sitting or laying, and getting her pretty furs all soggy with pee.  Poor Patches!

Today, she took a very bad turn.  She was having near constant mini-seizures, and Mom noticed she could not even stand up; she would fall right over, and her pupils were very dilated, and not as responsive to bright light as they should have been.  It used to be, even when she was "stoned" on her medicines, that Mom or Dad could give her chin rubs, and she'd love it, and lay her head back and have a happy expression.  That was gone today.  There was no response to those pleasant stimuli.  She just wasn't "in there" any more.

So Mom and Dad had to make the very hard choice to take her to the vet and have her helped to cross the Bridge. Patches held on strong for so many years, and she was well loved, but it was finally time for her to let go.  May she fly free and whole again on the other side.  We will see you again one day, dear Patches.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Good News/Bad News; Need Help

Hello, Dear Furriends!

We have an update to report.  It is a good-news/bad-news report.

On the good news side, Dad is doing better.  He did have a very bad episode that sent him to the hospital for a few days, and they said he 'flatlined' in the ambulance, but he came back to us.  

The doctors changed his medications, and it has helped him feel a lot better.  He is even trying to help mom around the house again.  However, he still does need a new heart, and is again being evaluated for the transplant list.

On the not-so-good news, Tigger is not doing any better; in fact, 3 days ago, he started refusing to eat.  Mom is trying to tempt him with special foods, and he does not want it.  Mom is having to make it all soupy, and make him eat it by squirting it into his mouth.

Now, we are in the very awkward position of once again needing to ask for some help.  Halloween night, the water heater gave out, and water was flooding out all night long.  Mom and dad did not notice at first, because it was raining quite hard.  It's a good thing the water heater is outside the house!

But, the down side of that disaster was that they did not have enough money to buy a new one, so they had to ask mom's daughter to put it on their credit card.  (Mom and dad got rid of credit cards years ago!)  Now, they need to repay the daughter! 

Tangled up in all of that are extra vet bills for Tigger, and the vet has allowed payments to be made over time, to a certain point.  We have reached that point:  no more adding to the tab until the current balance is paid.  

If anyone is able to help out, it would be so appreciated.  Mom set up a site for donations.  Please click here if you are able to help out.

Many thanks in advance for any help anyone can manage.  We really hate having to ask.  

Sincerely, Jigsaw Puzzle, Esq.