Well, I've been retired over three years now. Still managing on my check and hope like hell I continue to. Here's the family update, eldest first.
GAIA: Shortly after my last post, Gaia had her teeth cleaned. One lymph node was swollen and I asked that it be checked. It was cancer. I barely had a month left with my miracle girl. I lost her 14 years to the day from when I found her. It was oral squamous cell carcinoma and that is rapid and nearly impossible to treat. She was kept comfortable, fed whenever and whatever she wanted, and the sweetest baby right up to the end. I will forever miss the second soul cat I never thought I'd have. This is one of her last pictures.
PEWTER: Still chugging along at 15 years. She's slower, sleeps a lot, and gets grumpy, but that's fairly normal for her anyway. 😉 She's recently on a round of antibiotic/antiviral for a bad respiratory infection and injured toes. Going to the vet almost always results in her injuring herself fighting the carrier no matter what kind of carrier I try. She's recovering well, keeping her weight decent, and eating whenever she tells me she wants a nibble. Side note, her one litter mate passed away in May. My friend adopted her and cared for her very well for almost 15 years.
MISKA: My chunkabunk. She was diagnosed with hyperthyroid and didn't really respond well to treatment. She was still eating, but still losing weight. When we were about to go back to the vet, she left on her own. I woke to find her gone. My once rolly polly girl was 13.
MICHAEL: Still a lovebug and cuddly as ever. Since the surgery and being on c/d food, there's only been one incident. Emergency surgery. 😦 He didn't want to eat one morning and that is the indicator for him that something is seriously wrong. Off to the vet we went. Bladder full of stones. FULL. From big rocks to bits of grit. FULL. Needless to say, he was under the knife shortly thereafter. He started methigel and so far, so good, on his bladder staying clear.
TRYSTEN: Grouchy as always, cuddly at the most random moments. He is still the same orange creature whose one brain cell is food related only.
And the surprise one. After Gaia had been gone about six months, I started looking for a cat. I wanted a girl, around two or three years, tri-colour, fluffy, vocal, and friendly with other cats. I met one who was too skittish. Emailed a bit about one or two others, but none were fitting. Cue my neighbor to beat on my door, in the rain, holding a damned near limp kitten she found in the ditch in front of her house. He was very sick with a respiratory infection, far too young to be without his mom, and too skinny. The rescue was full up, as it was kitten season, so guess who ended up with a brown tabby boy, three weeks old. This idiot. He's just over a year now. He has behavioural issues and is on amitriptyline daily, though I'd prefer gabapentin to sedate his insane ass. He will LITERALLY climb my walls, using the pictures hanging there. Has little to no care for the cat spike mats I've placed to try to keep him off high areas. Can jump floor to five feet with ease, necessitating me to put cardboard to make things look too tall for him to leap onto. Will chase and attack everyone, though it's his going after Pewter that makes me upset. He has broken things I've had over 40 years. Chewed a hole in the kitten pen he was in, making me have to keep him in a wire cage at the beginning. NEVER backed down from his new brothers, despite the 10 pound weight difference at first meeting. He isn't dumb though. He actually has learned a few commands, in Thai, since that's where his name originates. Blame my obsession with boy love dramas out of Thailand. Meet Kon Diao, my nightmare, my Cha kla, my demon, the new asshole of the house. First and most recent pictures.
