Life sucks ...

I have a rather battered-looking cat at the moment. Not just scruffy, but battered as well. Heaven knows what the vet and the neighbours think.

Wednesday - got into a fight with arch-enemy the black *! from up the road. Scrambled through catflap with a huge tuft of black fur hanging from his mouth and more tufts of black fur in his claws. Huge scratch over right eye, long raking scratches on his almost bare tummy and various lumps and bumps all over from bites. Spent all day on my bed sleeping it off. Got up that evening, had some ham for tea and slept on the sofa for the rest of the night.

Thursday - woke up a lot brighter. Right eye a bit sore-looking but ate a good breakfast and went out on patrol for the morning. Came in at lunchtime and went upstairs for a nap. 2 hours later huge bang from bedroom, loud running paws on stairs that slowed to a walk at the bottom and Dougal strolled through sitting door all cool and calm: "Wasn't me!"

On investigation, mountaineering cat had dislodged a box from the top of my wardrobe. A little later I noticed his eyes were a bit unfocused and he had a large cut between his eyes, on top of a rapidly-growing lump. Much in need of cuddles.

Friday - slightly concussed cat who is afraid to go into the bedroom because the sky fell on his head.

Saturday - massive lump between eyes and very sore, but bright enough so long as I don't try to touch his head. Good excuse to be picky about food.
 
Cheers Troodles!

He knocked the scab off his head wound this morning, so I have been cleaning him up. He was sooooo good and just sat there, occasionally waving a paw in protest but making no attempt to scratch. The heat of the water seemed to soothe him as once I had put a hot wad of cotton wool on the wound, he would just sit quietly with his eyes closed.

He has now had a good wash and opened the wound completely, so now we can keep it clean between us and not worry about an abscess.

Life number 4 down, 5 to go!
 
Wow! Poor Dougal. So glad he feels well enough to get into scrapes though. But could possibly do with not mountain climbing by the sound of it. :lol:

I love it when they protest by raising a paw at us. So cute. :<3: Grey stripey feral fellow will do that if I touch him too much, but never bites or gets us. Used to half heartedly hiss but gave that up. I touched him today when I fed him and he gave me a withering look.

My brother in the US gets these cheap leopard print cloth balls which have feathers velcroed on to them. He sends them to our cats. We have to keep them locked in drawer to prevent cats demolishing them. Last night we gave the tortoiseshell tame but ferocious cat one to play with as she is all jealous that Minnie, with cat flu, is getting all the attention.

She lept about like a mad thing, over tables, chests of drawers, tv, up curtains, and us. Blood everywhere, ours. :lol:
 
My homed ferals would make strange sounds if I tried to stroke them while they were eating. A sort "now-now-now" noise between mouthfuls, with ears back, but no attacks. They also ate fiercely fast, coming from their impoverished early lives and not knowing where the next tiny bit to eat might come from. After a few years, they knew that food would always be ready and plentiful, but were still very possessive of their plates.
 
It never leaves them, does it Kri?

Dougal used to get bullied and mugged by the kittens next door whenever I fed him, so I used to stand beside him while he ate. Now I have to do that whenever I want him to eat well, as he will spend all his time snatching mouthfuls in between watching the catflap.

How is Minnie now, Isi?

Tilly used to be very suspicious and take a swipe if I tried to fuss her, but I got round her by gently stroking the base of her ear with one finger (bit like Mummy cat would wash a kitten). She rather liked that, so I was able to progress to stroking her head and down behind her ears in long, sweeping strokes, again like being groomed by another cat. She has calmed down a bit, but I'm afraid her early experiences have left their mark.

Helen, I hope the grief eases soon for you and you can remember the happy times with Dusty, not just the trauma of the last few days.
 
Serious stuff first. I agree with Red, Helen, if you can get over the last pain and remember the good times then you will be glad of having had your friend. It's hard to get thru the pain mist tho, for sometime.

Kri, really laughed at your post! I used to have a grumpy cat who growled a lot when eating. Enter a child of 4 who adored the cat despite grumps and would squeeze his nose when he growled. Brave child, ..... but cat did not mind at all, loved kids and the noise woulchange from a scary 'grr' to a kind of 'now, now now' then purrs as cat forget to be grumpy. So funny. And weird that a half feral would submit to a little boy, but there you are.

Minnie is much better now, eyes stopped streaming. I opened what is known in our house as 'Cat Cafe' and cooked them some red meat for a week. The cat flu from the Herpes virus can be subdued by removing the amino acid arginine form their diet and replacing it with Lysine. Arginine is found in poultry and chocolate and nuts and this virus feeds upon it. Lysine is in red meat.

Before you think how impressive this information from me is, I will admit that an alchemist friend of nine is the one who informed me! I do not really understand this, despite being a nutritionist, I just know it works. :lol:

Anyway, it works. You can give cats lysine powder in food, but I did not have any and it is not easy to get in a hurry.

Cat story of the evening. -

We are still trying to throw away all of our junk and found two ancient foam cushions which are destined for the dump as lumpy and dusty. Set upon living room floor on way out of house. Two minutes later cat walks in, inspects, and goes to sleep on them. 'MINE!' :D
 
They love sleeping where they shouldnt,dont they?? Many was the time Id inadvertantly take one of mine on the paper round cos she was asleep in the bag....
 
It's like Doctor Seuss on here - the Cat in the Bag being one character! Brilliant to hear so many touching and funny anecdotes.
 
Thanks all, really appreciate it, in actual fact I've been blessed with a bout of sciatica for the last two days & thats really given me something else to think about!

We took Dusty off to the pet crem on saturday & we collect his ashes tomorrow
 
If you do not mind me asking, what will you do with his ashes?

I only ask because at my age I am amassing a collection of them and have not made up my mind what to do with them.

We 'planted' our pedigree and he is now a lovely pale patio rose. It suits him, he was a bit of a woss, but affectionate and liked being near, so he's in a pot that I can take around with me and care for over winter. I'm sure the neighbours think me mad as when I am not talking to the 3 live cats I am addressing this rose.

I have two little carved sandlewood boxes with cats ashes. I feel ready to do something with them now, after 3 years, but what? I don't want to scatter them, and I don't want to put them in the ground in case I move.
 
I'm keeping them until I die & my wishes are that I would like to buried or cremated then my ashes put in a green burial ground, at some point after, the ashes of my pets are to be scattered where my final resting place is, I have the same problem as you though, I'm 38 & already have the ashes of 3 x dogs & 4 x cats & I still have 4 dogs & 2 cats! I dare say there will be more to come!

Whoever are scattering the ashes will have to do it in stages otherwise it will be ash mountain!!
 
thanks Helen, glad to know I am not alone! :)

And we're not alone either. I do not know if it is still there, but for a very long time there was a wooden box in David Elsworth's office which had a nameplate on it that read 'Persian Punch'. It contained half of Punch's ashes. The other half had remained with owner Jeff Smith who had scattered them by the winning post of his favourite racecourse Goodwood, where Punch had won 2 Goodwood Cups.

To begin with David kept his half under the piano in the hall but had thought he would scatter them on the gallops at Whitsbury at some point. But then he moved to Newmarket and he did not feel right about leaving Punch behind. So Punch moved too. We visited the office when they first moved in and there was a large crowd of us happily being given the tour. We walked into the room where Punch was, and not expecting to find him there, took one look, burst into tears. David did not know what to do with us!

When the memorial statue of Punch was unveiled at Newmarket we were all standing by it with David, Jeff Smith and his wife Veronica. More tears. She turned to us and said that we would all have to be buried underneath it. This made us laugh, the thought of the staue being uprooted each time one of us died and all of us just being added to it like a tomb.

Not a bad idea ..... but not sure how Punch would feel about all of our cats and dogs joining his memorial though :lol:
 
I've always buried my pets and then planted something over them. Whoever lives here after me will find a garden that resembles a small cemetery!

One thing I have always been particular about though is that each pet is buried in his/her own favourite covering. I cannot bear the thought of the earth just lumping down on them without a covering over them. Oscar was buried wrapped in the skirt of an old dress that I used to wear around the house. I know it sounds daft, but I cut the buttons off so they didn't dig in ...

Archaeologists will have a great time investigating my garden in centuries to come. All those cats and dogs, all wrapped in strange textiles and with remnants of favourite toys.
 
Hi Helen

He's finished moulting now - overdone it a bit on the tummy and hind legs. His lovely fluffy breeches are totally gone and there was just pink skin last week, but there is a fine white fuzz there now, so it looks as though he is beginning to grow his winter coat again.

Oh the indignity! He has lost his eyebrow whiskers. He does still have his face whiskers though.

Full of beans for the past couple of weeks. Bouncing around the garden and the house. His eyes are happy.

I got home from work one day last week and couldn't see him anywhere, so assumed he was out and about. Went upstairs to change and could hear a little kitteny mewing from the corner of my bedroom. On closer inspection the daft critter had been inspecting the space between the chair and the wardrobe and decided to investigate further.

He had lowered himself into the very tight space and was trapped, upside down, at full stretch, with his front paws on the floor and his hind feet still on the back of the chair. Pitiful mewing, like a kitten. Heaven knows how long he had been there, but I don't think he will try that one again!

I did laugh, but tried not to hurt his feelings and gave him plenty of cuddles. :lol:
 
All of this cat talk really makes me want another cat. It's now 10 years since I lost my beloved Tufty, I got her when I was 8 and we had her for 16 years. She was a big ginger female and I've had a soft spot for gingers ever since. There's a new ginger appeared where I live and he's such a friendly, lovely little cat, coming up to you when you're in the garden and winding himself around your legs.
 
My last four cats were all ginger-stripes, Trips. The Mum was Sunny, and she had four all-ginger stripeys, no white on them. Mum also had the feral ear tufts (is that why you called yours Tufty?), which seem to be a feature of gingers in particular. I found a loving home in Scotland for one (these were all in Saudi at the time of my adopting them) and Sunny and daughter Poppy came to the UK with me, the little lad Rusty being tragically killed on a road, trying to keep up with the highly-energetic Poppy. They'd never gone on roads before, and it happened at night. I found him and buried him in my back garden.

He was so adorable - he suffered from a thyroid condition as a feral kit, and it wasn't until he was handleable and the vet got over his nerves in treating such a fesity little ball of fury that he got treatment. He was all scrunched-looking and undersized, but after the treatment he expanded like a concertina! He did actually lengthen and even grow to about 2/3 the size of a normal cat - he was always a roundy little shape, very strong for his size, with rather wiry fur. He adored his sister and would follow her everywhere, which is what led to his untimely death.

Maybe it's time, Trips, to think about getting a new 'little red'? If I ever get back to a house or a flat with a garden, I reckon I will.
 
She was actually named after a character in the Enid Blyton books I was such a fan of around the time I got her! She wrote a number of books with adventure in the title, 'The Island of Adventure' and 'The Castle of Adventure' are the only two I can remember and Tufty appeared in them. I got her when she was only 6 weeks old, from my auntie's farm, and she always retained a slightly wild streak. Although quite affectionate and certainly more so as she got older, she was never a 'knee cat' and had no qualms about letting you know if she was peed off with you.

I will get another one eventually, however a new baby is quite enough to contend with at the moment! Although I'm not going to be waiting too long.
 
I'm a great believer that if you are ready for a cat one will find you, Trips. When the new baby takes less of your time (if ever!) you might just find that a cat will find its way to you, one way or another.

My friend Elizabeth recently lost her beloved dog Monty at the age of 15. She and the younger dog, Rupert, mourned him very badly. I told her that the right dog for her would turn up and that evening, when she went to pay her vet's bill, one of the nurses told her that another client of theirs had a springer bitch who had just had her litter. As the bitch is an outstanding gundog with a wonderful temperament and breeds the same kind of pups, she advised her to get in touch with the owners.

The following morning there was a picture on my PC of a tiny puppy in her hand and we have had pictorial updates ever since. His character is just what she looks for in her dogs and Quincy will be joining the family in a couple of weeks.

Just little coincidences like that mean that, when you are ready, one will find you!
 
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