Category Archives: Fur Babies

Today I Cried

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It might sound trivial to some, but today is the anniversary of my best buddy Fuzzy’s death. He was the best cat ever. I cried, as I always do when I think about him. He’s only been gone since February. I hope it gets easier to remember him.

It was 1998 and my kids and I were at my sister’s house for a visit. My sister’s kids and mine were outside playing and they found a litter of kittens. I don’t recall if there was a mother cat with them or not. The kittens were all adorable but one stood out from the rest.

He was a tiny, gray striped male with a huge personality! He played with his siblings but also by himself. He was the happiest little guy! We took him home and named him Fuzz.

Fuzz was spoiled rotten before too long, of course, but he was a good cat! He never had a problem using the litter box, he had manners when we were eating, and he didn’t claw the furniture. He was so cuddly and sweet at bedtime. He slept with me and there were many times over the years that I’d wake up to one of his paws stretched across my face.

When he was a young cat, he loved our Christmas trees! I always had to set up the tree without any decor until he got his climbing frenzy out of his system. It was hilarious watching him climb and go nuts. At that time he didn’t go outside so it was so new and fun for him!

Fuzz was very protective…of ME anyway. There were many times he jumped in between me and some critter in the yard! Sometimes it was an opossum and sometimes a skunk. That cat jumped between the critter and me before the critter could get too close. It was amazing!

He spent a lot of his time outside so he was very street-smart. It’s miraculous that he didn’t get caught by a coyote or hit by a car; but like I said, he was street-smart. I can count on one hand how many times he had to go to the vet because he was sick or hurt.

His last year with us, he began to show his age and he started losing weight. Then came his uncontrollable hunger, which is when I took him to the vet. Kidney Disease. That dreaded kidney disease. He wasn’t going to make it to his 19th Christmas. I knew it was just a matter of time at that point and gave my poor Fuzzy anything he wanted. Why not? Wouldn’t you want someone to give you anything you wanted if you were dying?

Fuzzy’s favorite foods were chicken, tuna, cheddar cheese, milk and vanilla ice cream. So, when he was hungry….which was almost all the time in the last few months of his life….I gave him chicken, tuna or cheddar cheese. I didn’t give him much of the other things because it wasn’t good for the litter box if you know what I mean.

Last February, my youngest cat caught a respiratory virus and I feared the others would get it too. They did. I spent 3 entire weeks going back and forth to the vet, cleaning and disinfecting, and trying to nurse all 6 cats back to health. I was not able to help my buddy, Fuzz. He was too sick and too weak. When he refused to eat, I tried to force him. He wasn’t having that at all. I knew I was going to have to take him for his last ride.

It was one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. I didn’t want him to suffer any more than he already had. We said goodbye to him at 4 pm on February 23, 2017. We took him home and buried him in the garden. He was 18.5 years old.

He would have been 19 years old this month. I have never had a cat live as long as Fuzz did. Now I have two 15-year-old cats that are really starting to show their age. It won’t be long now before I lose them. It really sucks when you lose a furbaby, but it’s even harder when they have been with you for so long! Fuzz grew up with my kids! The other two senior cats actually did too!

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Image Copyright Being Aunt Debbie

 

 

 

There Is Always Something To Be Grateful For

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I am trying to be a bit more positive this week. Last week kind of threw me for a loop! It was rough. I’d like to take some time to write about a few of the things I am grateful for…. There’s always something to be grateful for; no matter how bad it is, no matter the struggles.

 

  1. I’m grateful for my Dad. He’s not just my Dad; he’s my best friend and “partner in crime!” He’s 80 years old and in pretty good health. He’s in better shape than I am!
  2. Over the weekend, one of my furbabies had a problem that led me to believe I was going to have to make that final decision. This morning, she was back to her old self. Still 15 years old and nearing the end of her life, but I am grateful that this week I won’t have to say goodbye.
  3. I am grateful for the good night’s sleep I got last night. It was refreshing. It doesn’t happen often!
  4. I am grateful for the skill to crochet. It helps my hands not freeze up from arthritis. I am working on a poncho for my cousin this week.

 

I think I will start writing at least one thing I am grateful for each day. It helps to be positive. It helps to be grateful. It helps to look forward and smile. What are you grateful for tonight?

 

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Mr. Potato Head’s Cat

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Image Copyright Being Aunt Debbie

This is Mr. Potato Head’s Cat, Korn. “Yes, that’s Korn. Korn with a “K” and you have disturbed my slumber.”

This morning the phone rang and woke me up. I let the machine pick it up. I decided I’d better get up and see who it was. I put my glasses on and crawled out of bed.

Message important, but not urgent.

I guess my grandson, D.M., was shocked to see that I had my glasses on already. Usually, when I crawl out of bed he reminds me that I don’t have them. He uses sign language mostly – some that I taught him and some that he created himself. His sign for glasses is putting his hands over his eyes. He made this sign and then made the sign for sleeping, which is his head resting on his hand. I told him, “Yes, I have my glasses on. I don’t wear them when I sleep.” Then, just to be funny I asked him, “Do you wear your glasses when you sleep?” He cocked his head to the side (like a puppy) and looked confused. “Uh oh,” I thought. I’ve confused him alright!! He then ran to his Mr. Potato Head pieces and grabbed up Mr. Potato Head’s glasses and put them on his own face! Soon after he was trying them on the cat. Poor Korn. He’s a ‘good ol’ boy’ and really doesn’t mind being bothered, but doesn’t he looked thrilled?

Letting Go….

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One of the hardest things a person will ever have to do is lose someone they love. When my grandmother passed in 2000 and when my mother passed years earlier, it was the most difficult feeling to stomach. That sick feeling passes after awhile but you just never get over the loss.

It’s also very difficult to lose a beloved pet. My daughter’s pet ferret, Peanut, passed yesterday. He had been ill and the thought of seeing him suffer was unbearable. There was nothing we could do for him. He was once a vibrant, playful crazy ferret who loved to play and hide toys under the couch. Next thing we knew, he was unable to use his hind legs. Coupled with other symptoms like loss of appetite, weight loss, incontinence and tarry stool, it was looking very grim.

We learned that he most likely had a tumor on his pancreas, causing low blood sugar and all the other symptoms. Surgery was the only thing left for him, but he was probably too weak to survive it. Even if he did survive the surgery, he would have to be on medication the rest of his life. The sad thing is that the rest of his life might have only been 4 months or so. So after hundreds of dollars in tests, surgery and drugs, to have his life be extended by only a few months seemed cruel. Why put him through so much pain and agony?

Making the decision to have him euthanized was difficult. We had to do this, for him. Let him rest in peace, knowing that he was loved and cared for by every single one of us. That sick feeling of loss will go away but we will never forget Peanut. He brought us many laughs and lots of kisses.

Rest In Peace, Peanut. We love you and we will miss you very much.

 

PEANUT

                      Image Copyright Being Aunt Debbie

 

The Thing About Cats……

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Don’t get me wrong, I love cats. They are my favorite animal and I have 4 of them. I love them all dearly. They all have their own little personalities and they have their own little quirks…these things make them unique and special in my eyes. I love my little furbabies and would miss them dearly if something were to happen to one of them.

Smokie is the handicapped spayed female. She was hit by a car (or kicked by a cow, not sure exactly) and she has very limited eye sight. She is not allowed to go outside without supervision. Kitty (also spayed female) is the baby of the house. She’s almost 2 years old now. She’s psychotic, has red eyes and can turn on you in a split second. She is not to be trusted! On the other hand, she’s scared of everything that moves and the outdoors. She stays inside and doesn’t ever want to go out. Fine by me. One less cat to let in and out.

Fuzz and Korn are the males (neutered, shh don’t tell them!) and they usually go outside at night, which I don’t especially like but they are very wise and have a keen sense of danger. They come in the house in the morning and sleep all day until 5pm, which is their dinner time and they always seem to know the exact time!

Last night, for some reason Fuzz and Korn both stayed inside. Maybe it was just too cold for them at 25 degrees or so. It’s not like they haven’t been out in the cold before but maybe they’re just getting too old for it. Who knows.

The thing is I woke up this morning with Fuzz looking at me as if he wanted to go outside. I figure he probably does have to go out for a potty break. I ease my way out of bed and he’s waiting for me in the middle of the living room when I get there. I go to the door and open it, calling for him to go outside. He sits there and stares at me and then the door. I call him a few more times and then I just give it up. I figure he’s got something else on his mind. By the time I get to the spot where he sat watching me, he makes a mad dash for the door like he wants out! I was very aggrivated at this point but I went back to the door and opened it. Again, he just sat there and looked at the door. What the heck? I tell him to “just go outside you little furbrained terd. Stop F***ing with me!” He is finally outside and I’m relieved to have ended this game of his as quickly as I did. Sometimes these games go on all night long! In and out, in and out. One comes in the other wants out….all night long. It drives me insane.

I know, it’s my own fault for putting up with it. Dad tells me to throw their asses out whether they like it or not. Well, I understand that’s what I should do but they are my furbabies. I can’t just throw them outside as if I don’t care that it’s cold out or that there may be a coyote lurking about near the yard. I love them dearly.

And the thing about cats is that they love me unconditionally and their only demands are to be fed and let in and out and in and out and in and out……. What would I do without them? (I would probably be just as crazy so what the heck?)