I haven't been doing much at all in the way of long form blogging here, but over on Facebook the perilous adventures of TribbleJ are well documented. After he broke two (more) glasses in less than 24 hours over new year's eve I was a broken woman and conceded that maybe one day he might have to go back to the Cat Haven from whence he sprang. It's too much to recreate all of the fun and games here, but I wanted to cobble together some of my notes on where we are and where we might go.( Read more... )
On Friday 13th of June on the day of the full moon I went to Cat Haven and chose a kitten to become part of our family here at Sector 7. We are now a complete cat home again with the maximum number of three kitties as allowed by law. I am a crazy cat lady once more.( Read more... )
A few days after my last post about Cally, and as she came down after her latest dose of Tramal, it became clear that her time had come. The signs were many, but in essence she was going to be back in pain and discomfort for at least another couple of days before I could give her more pain relief. And the nature of that pain relief was making her treatment look more and more like the jerking of a puppet. Her eyes said no more. Her whiskers said no more. It was time.( Read more... )
Cally's final appointment made with Dr Laura tomorrow at 10:15am. Second of its type in under a month. Third in under 18 months. Fuck. Thanks everyone for your kind words over on FB.
Cally herself has made the timing of the decision relatively easy - she's had enough. I'm a wreck, even more so than for the others. She's been a huge part of my life for 20 years, and I've always been her one and only human. 20 years! I've spent more time with her than with any person, Husband included. She's drawn significantly more of my blood than Husband has too. People started telling me to prepare for her loss seven years ago when she was a mere 14. Suddenly I find I'm not prepared at all.
Although Princess dominated the cat medical news for a while, my attention was never off my eldest cat and old friend Cally. At 21 she is kept going by veterinary magic and a stubborn personality, but the nature of her end is starting to become clear. This is another "organise my thoughts" post. Blogging is handy for this sort of thing.( Read more... )
I've been wanting to write this post for at least a couple of weeks, to help me put my thoughts in order and make a decision about Princess' future. A couple of days ago something changed to make that decision easier, but I'd still like to talk this through. (TW I suppose – talking about the pending death of a pet.)( Read more... )
First the good news: for the last week I can definitely confirm that Princess' pee has not had any visible blood in it. And in other good news, today we caught the aforementioned substance on one of the puppy housetraining absorbent pads we put out near one of the litter tray stations.( Read more... )
I haven't blogged much this year, and indeed have failed to blog many non-trivial things at all (part 2 of our Dunsborough anniversary trip being but one case in point). This is actually informative, because it reflects a year of poor health, even by my standards. Actually my poor health is one of the few things I did document even remotely properly, because of the amount of information I needed to track. This does not please me.( Read more... )
This is a frivolous post. I have not assigned spoons for this, nor is it anywhere in my various lists of priorities. My lists of priority tasks are long; my spoons are short. I can't really afford this. But sometimes you just have to kick over the traces and do whatever you damn want to. So I'm going to ramble for a bit.
tl;dr I ramble for quite a bit.( Read more... )
Because Cally and Princess are Cat Haven rescue moggies their exact dates of birth are a bit of a guess a few months each way, but about now I'm upping their ages from "y and a half" to "pushing y+1". Thus my two eldest are now the ripe old ages of Pushing 21 and Pushing 17 respectively. There's something to be said for hybrid vigour.( Read more... )
Sometimes it feels like all I do is look after (and indeed blog about) the cats. There are worse things to spend my time on, but sometimes it gets complicated. Herein I record Buffy's spey and Boris Giles' sundry bacteria, with end notes on Cally's arthritis and Princess' thyroid.( Read more... )