Mom is worried about me. I have been here two weeks now, and I am still hanging out in the cage she set up for me for when I first arrived. After the first week, she said I could come out and join Googlie and my sisters. She even leaves the cage doors open all the time. I keep returning to the cat bed in my cage. I try to tell her I am just fine. She says I sound like my sisters. The bed is safe and comfortable. Doesn’t she realize that I am happy to have a home where no one, cat or human, picks on me?
Trapped
Today a suspicious person visited our house. He came downstairs (where we live) and made weird noises in the room next to ours. Mom and Dad were talking about a plumber (whatever that is) and a new bathroom faucet. After 90 minutes or so the man went upstairs, but I could still hear his voice for a while.
I am not fond of strangers. After this one was gone and Mom was about to go to work, she started doing one of her usual “cat counts.” She found everyone but me. I thought I had found the perfect hiding place: cozy, dark, and out of sight. Suddenly the door to my hiding place slammed shut. I was trapped!
Mom has been trying to get me to the vet for a while now, because I am more than a year overdue for shots. I am very talented at avoiding capture, and I am strong. Today, however, my desire for privacy defeated me.
Mom told Dad she did not want to be late for work, but just had to take this opportunity to get me in for vaccinations. I complained, but not too loudly. I hid under the bedding in the carrier. Nothing changed Mom’s mind.
We arrived at the veterinary hospital. Mom and I were taken to a room. It seemed like forever before I was allowed out. Then I encountered another stranger: Dr. R. Mom apparently knows her well. Dr. R. poked me in the sides, listened to my heart, and tried to look in my mouth. I squirmed and struggled. Dr. R. took me into another room. I was stabbed several times. My nails were clipped. Finally, Dr. R. took me back to Mom and told her to call Friday for the “results.”
Mom is lucky I don’t hold a grudge. Besides, most of the time she treats me well, I know she loves me.
Rumors
We are hearing some strange things lately here at the Funny Farm. References are being made to a “Jenise.” Mom and Dad were talking about a sister of Jou Jou B and Jolie Fille, Apparently her original adopters returned her to the vet from which all but one of us were adopted. Mom keeps visiting the vet, even when one of us is not being taken in for vaccinations (or worse). We even heard one or two mentions of the dreaded cage, and Mom was talking to Dad about moving the ramp in the bedroom.
We are becoming more and more certain as the days go by that the ten feline inmates of the Funny Farm will soon become eleven. Is this a good thing? We aren’t sure.
Lost My Lunch…and Last Night’s Supper
For some reason that I cannot comprehend, Mom seems to be picking on me lately. Two weeks ago she hauled me all over creation. I tried to tell her I was sick to my stomach, but she just kept driving. Finally, I just SHOWED her (from both ends) how she was making me feel. After all that wandering we ended up–where else?–at a veterinary hospital. I got drops in the eyes, had bright lights shined at me, was shaved on the belly, got x-rayed and ultra-sounded, and was forced to donate my blood. Lucky for me, Mom eventually came back and took me home.
I thought my ordeal was over, but NO! Mom started putting a drop in my right eye twice every day. About a week later, she started giving me this yechy “chicken-flavored” liquid twice a day, too. I have tried to endure all this like the AWESOME kitty that I am. I kept on hoping it would stop, and we could get back to normal.
No such luck! Today Mom jammed me in a carrier again, a bigger one this time, but a carrier nonetheless. Off in the car we went. I politely complained. I became fairly insistent. Mom did not listen, so I had to demonstrate my unhappiness visibly…just like before. Again we arrived at this special veterinary hospital–me all messy and stinky–so the ophthalmologist could repeat her examinations of my eyes. I heard her tell Mom that the surface of my right eye looked much better, and that the inflammation in the back of my eyes had been reduced in some areas. I thought this was good news until she said she wanted to see me once more in a week or two. ANOTHER trip to dread! If my eyes are still inflamed they are considering taking some fluid from my eye(s)…an OPERATION!!! Please, Mom, no more!
It’s Not So Bad in Here
When Mom first adopted me in January 2013, she tried really hard to get me integrated with the other family felines. I demonstrated clearly–to her and to the other cats–that I was not about to cooperate. For the past year and a half I have chosen to live by myself in the kitchen and bathroom. I have two of my own beds, my own dishes, and my own litterbox.
After a while, I decided that it might be a good idea to check out the food bowls that the other cats were using to see if they had any perks that I was lacking. On occasion I would howl at the door until Mom or Dad would let me in. If no other cat was in the immediate vicinity, I would enter, check out the bowls (and munch a bit if there was something good), and howl again to be let out. Mom really tried to talk me into exploring and sticking around, but I did not feel like doing that…until a couple weeks ago.
It was a Sunday afternoon, August 24, and Dad was at work. I howled to come in and soon wanted to leave. Mom talked to me, and called me to come over. I don’t know why I changed my mind, but I decided to stay and have a look around. Mom was really surprised to find me in the window where Purrin’Dot used to hide every time the vacuum came out. I walked around on Dad’s desk and Mom’s desk, and even sat for a while on Mom’s lap. I could tell she was amazed. When Dad got home, she told him about my exploits. He did not seem to believe her.
Over the course of the next couple weeks Dad has had ample opportunity to witness my remarkable transformation from loner to (mostly) peaceful co-exister. I am still spending nights by myself (Dad doesn’t trust me), but much of the day and evening with my (human and feline) family. I kind of like it in here; I have a wider choice of napping spots and more opportunities to sit on Mom’s lap.
“Mini Me” Is in the House
It seems Mom was not satisfied with one sweet young thing keeping me company in here. Jou Jou B is full of energy and very talkative (or maybe I should say “chirp-ative”). Old cats like me just want to sleep and get a little love from our human parents. Then Mom brought in another youngster. At first she did not seem so bad; she was not bouncing off walls, and she was quiet. Now that she has had some time to adjust to her new surroundings, Jolie is showing signs of becoming Jou Jou B’s “mini me.” She is starting to play with the Neko Flies Kittenator that Jou Jou loves. What is worse, she is starting to make noises…and she sounds like a muted version of Jou Jou. I suppose that it makes sense, since Jolie and Jou Jou are sisters. I do wish, however, for just a bit more peace and quiet.
There’s No Place Like Home
Finally! I thought it might never happen: Mom came today and brought me home. I even recognized the place after been gone 8 days. Now I can settle back in and, Mom hopes, overcome my shyness. I know I still have her a bit concerned because I am still favoring my left front paw. Doesn’t she know it takes time to heal?
Where, O Where Did My Little Sis Go?
Mom was engaged in some very suspicious activity today, and now Jolie Fille is missing. This morning Mom was rearranging stuff in our living space. The large box with a metal door was moved out of hiding from its place under the desk. Soft bedding was put inside. Then Mom left.
When she came back later, Mom brought a tube of some sort of flaky substance and put some into the box on the bedding. Before heading to dinner she looked in on us. Allicat was on the bed and I was out and about. Jolie was in the box, enjoying something Mom called “catnip.” A little later she came back and entered our room. Suddenly she shut the door on the box, and Jolie was trapped inside. Mom carried the box away.
Mom was gone a long time. When she returned, there was no box and no Jolie. Where did she go? What did she do with my sister?!?!?!?!
Why’s Everybody Always Pickin’ on Me?
Mom has a real vendetta against me. I can tell. First she commits me to the veterinary hospital for a week. Now she has this strange, bulgy plastic bag with numbers down the side. On the bottom of the bag is a long plastic tube with some sort of on-off switch. The worst part is on the end of the tube: a sharp point that Mom insists on sticking between my shoulders when I least expect it. Struggling does not seem to help. If Mom would just pick one place and a regular time, I might be able to hide and escape the torture. She tells me that the vet wants me to “get fluids” twice a week–a likely story. NOT!
I Did It, But I Didn’t Mean To
I have been here for eight days now. Mom finally gave up on the cage. Wonder if it had to do with the “altercation” on Sunday evening, when she tried to return me to the cage…and I bit her. She never even came home the next night, even though Allicat cried and cried for her. Cousin MJ fed and cared for us cats, but gave me a wide berth. Mom was in the hospital, getting IV antibiotics.
She never yelled at me, but I am scared to come out…except at night when it is dark and quiet. She plays with my sister, Jou Jou B, like nothing is wrong. She pets Allicat and both she and Jou Jou sleep on her bed at night. Maybe it’s safe to come out. I am thinking about it….