Last activity: about one day ago
Status: Diet food? I'd rather eat a mouse!
status/mood updated 15 days ago
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Member since: 02 Apr 2008, Viewed: 3215 times
My Blog
Lady Fluff...stealing the show
Very rarely do the humans provoke me, Gina, to write. I generally protest in more catlike fashion...biting someone, scratching something to bits, peeing on something that has gotten in my way...but, I've had it. This Lady Fluffy Tail is really pushing my buttons.
First of all she's whiny. I HATE whiners. When she's outside, she wants inside. Howl and yowl. When she's in the garage, she wants outside or, worse yet, she thinks she's going to come into MY house.
The parents went and made her a bed in the garage. She refused to sleep in it. They have made her THREE bedding spots out there--and the dumb dumb wants to sleep in a roll of deck carpet that they are planning to put down in the spring. They think it shows how humble she is. Humble? It screams Dumb dumb.
She is all I hear about. "She is so sweet". Hey, I saw the psycho catch the gopher critter. She is NOT sweet. "She never shows her claws". Yeah? ask the gopher critter about that one. "She even likes Gina". I, Gina, haven't forgotten the last "outside" cat. He used to chase me into every hidey hole in the house--and Lady Fluff is small enough to FIT in them with me. Gina is not a dumb dumb. Gina steers clear.
Now to top it off, they are calling her a "hero". A few days ago, old whine tail was out in the garage sleeping in her carpet (dumb dumb) and the crazy human lady heard her howling and yowling. Just carrying on like you would not believe. I thought I was going to have to put Frito's tail over my ears! Anyway, Mom had to go check on the "princess", of course. The garage was full of smoke. They are calling Lady Fluff a hero for "warning" everyone...and it wasn't even a full blown fire. One of the fluorescent light fixures had a "blown" ballast--might have caught fire--but didn't. The cat was trying to save her own fluff butt, for Pete's Sake! Hero?? They should have named her Lady Whiny Tail.
At this rate, she's going to be sleeping on Mom's pillow by Thanksgiving. Something is going to have to be done. Even Frito and Lea don't like the whiny cat! Lea likes everything. (another dumb dumb) I'm beginning to question the human's intelligence...okay, I'm continuing to question the human's intelligence, but it's getting a little ridiculous around here.
Now, that I've expressed my feelings it's time to go hide until the little human critters disappear for the day. Whiny cats, whiny kids...
I'm going to have to catch a mouse or something to get a little respect around here. Nah...I'll just steal Frito's ipod and replace his soul music with a little White Zombie or something. That always makes me feel better. 
Frito's Side....The Rest of the Story
After a temporary hiatus, the fat cat is back! As many of you know, I had some embarrassing bladder issues which, as usual, the crazy lady I call Mom, announced to the world. Well, it’s time to tell my side of the story, from the soul cat point of view. As I’ve said, I’m a pretty sensitive, laid back kind of cat. Leave out a bowl of cat food, a water fountain or two, my blanket (that the middle kid still hides on her bed), and let me peacefully coexist with the world….the “inside my house” world. I knew that Dad’s new glasses were going to cause me trouble. (Mind control by vets, I tell you!)
The real problem started when the parents insisted on adopting the great (scary, chipmunk eating, whiny) Lady Fluff—this upset the harmony in my world….and it upset my tummy. Then, the parents went away for the weekend leaving me and Lea alone with Gina….Oh, the hairballs! That was it. I was upset, I got a little stressed out and I couldn’t pee. That was it. A little tension induced peeing issue. No need to panic. But, oh, no, Mom panicked. I had to go to the vet.
I hate going to the vet. It’s embarrassing. First of all, like always, the receptionist who witnessed my one little meltdown in the lobby had to make a point to tell the new receptionist all about me. One time. I climbed up on Dad’s hat one time and I’m labeled a nutcase. As usual, I get rushed into the examining room to avoid an anticipated loss of composure and they send in the 98 pound vet tech to get my measurements. Okay. The 98 pound vet tech can never get a handle on all of me at once. We look ridiculous, she always nearly drops me and it’s humiliating. Why they subject me to these things I will never understand.
Then, the vet came in. Oh, yes, and luckily, it was my favorite. Not only did she poke and grope and prod me, but she immediately started the “fat cat” rant. Oh, and then, I had to spend a full day with this lady! She had the nerve to put me on a diet! Hmmpf. Well, I sat in the hospital through her lunch and snacks…and apparently, her nutrasystem meals were delayed or something because that McDonald’s lunch and the Nutty Bars were surely not part of her diet plan. Somebody else needs to give old Jennie a call, let me tell you.
Well, believe it or not, the parents bought into the diet plan! For ME. A diet. All in the name of urinary health or some other vet mind control nonsense. They’ve given me diet food before. Crunchy Diet Food. It’s not my favorite, but I’ve always eaten it. But, now, they want me to eat canned food! CANNED, wet, stinky food! Does anyone know what’s in that stuff??? Why would anyone EAT that? It’s dumbfounding. I can only imagine what parts of unsavory critters get put into that stuff! Yuck. I’d rather eat plastic spiders (but don’t tell the middle kid!)
For a few days I gave in and ate it—we had some issues. I don’t care for fish, I insisted on turkey and only turkey. I prefer a plate rather than a bowl....I have some whisker clearance issues. I hate to eat alone so Mom had to adjust her schedule to sit with me. Oh—and Mom thought I was having more pee woes—but, the dummy caught on that I actually was a mildly constipated, more than moderately p#@!e# off starving cat. Good thing she’s so “in tune” to us.
Then it happened. I got a whiff of Lea’s breath and realized that the girls have crunchy food stashed somewhere! The betrayal! Well, that did it. I was going to get some real food! Mom put out the so-called turkey and giblets...I’m sorry, I know what giblets are—and even big psycho Sal E. left behind the “giblets”…So, I, ever so casually, moseyed over to the plate and proceeded to pretend to bury it. I thought it was a good one. One of my best. Mom wasn’t amused. Then I summoned my best hairball gag sound and walked away. Mom didn’t find it nearly as funny as I did.
Amazingly, she didn’t give in. She literally refused to give me real food! Well, I’m not stupid. I waited until she got the little humans to sleep and I headed to the closet where the “good stuff” is kept. Just so happens to be about 5 feet from their bedroom door. I yowled and howled and pawed at that door until the middle little kid woke up. Ah, it was priceless. I got into a bit of trouble for that and Mom and I had a 20 minute staredown over a plate of ground giblets. She broke first. I waited a few minutes and headed back to the door and proceeded to repeat my performance. You have heard nothing until the 24 pound cat stands up at midnight and pounds on a door. I was actually touching the doorknob. I thought I was winning, but she sat out the smelly gruel again, sprinkled some crunchies on it and really expected that to make a difference. They were contaminated by ground up mouse ears or whatever “fillers’ make it into the vat of yuck that gets canned and dumped onto my plate.
Well, I refuse. If that stuff is cat food, I am not even sure that I’m a cat! I think I am a vegetarian. The stuff in that can is not vegetable. I don’t even know that it’s animal or mineral! Well, it’s about time to have our next staredown over the food plate. Wish me luck. I am a cat with principles on a mission.
Frito & The Girls Update
We wanted to thank everyone again for the well wishes and meows. This week got hectic and we haven't found our way online much!
Frito seemed to be getting back to himself over the weekend. His appetite was back (even for the diet food), he was roaming the house like usual, sleeping in the middle little girl's bed (where she hides his blanket, you know) instead of hiding under it and his litter box visits were less often and seemed more normal.
He finished the prescription medication series on Sunday--and this morning seems to be heading to the litter box more again and it's once again taking him longer per "visit". He is hiding out downstairs again today too (closer to his favorite litter box). I guess I'll call the vet again this morning to see what, if anything, we should do next. I know he isn't "blocked"--but, I hate to see him uncomfortable. The Mommy in me wants to "fix" it!
Gina and Lea have just gotten somewhat used to the new feeding routine and, now that the blah Ohio weather has turned cold, Lady Fluffy Tail is trying to decide if she's going to move in or not. She doesn't want in the house at all and is terrified of the garage door. All of the kitties are trying to "adapt" to something right now I guess!
Hopefully we'll get things figured out soon and will have more time to post things again!
Frito, The Girls & Frito's Mama
Frito's Home from the Vet!
Frito's home with a tentative diagnosis of cystitis. His bladder is irritated and causing the frequent potty urges. It may be caused by bladder stones, but could be "Idiopathis cystitis"--from unknown causes. There was no bacteria in his urine and there were crystals, but not enough to "blame" that as the cause yet. He has no tract blockage at the present, but could potentially block over the next 48 hours so he's under "mommy monitoring" (and is not happy about it--Frito is a cat that likes his "space")! No privacy for him in the litter box for a while! The vet thinks he may have stone(s) in his bladder--but thinks we may have caught it early enough that we can reduce the possibility of further stones or blockage with a diet change (which I'm sure he'll blog about when he's feeling better) and some meds...so she isn't finalizing his diagnosis quite yet. Frito was just so upset about being at the vet, she wanted to see if he responded to treatment without further tests--so she didn't do the ultrasound. He is on an anti-inflammatory, pain medicine (that also acts as a sedative) and an "anti-spasmodic" to reduce the urge to go potty that is driving him mad and a canned food diet with as much water as we can convince him to drink. (I'm buying a new fountain just for him today!) He does this for a week, provided he doesn't develop a blockage, then we go back for another urinalysis & exam.
Sadly, I was told that "this condition is a major reason that adult cats are given up because it makes them "unacceptable" pets. They require too much care and have more accidents. If they are prone to frequent bouts of cystitis or blockages, which male long-haired cats are for some reason anyway--they may also be more likely to suffer from renal failure." Frito unacceptable? That made me really sad--then it made me really mad. But, I won't ramble and rant here!
Frito's trying out some of his new food...rather skeptically...and is slowly reclaiming his house. The girls have decided that they recognize him and his dog is getting their nap spot ready.
Thanks to everyone for the gifts and the well wishes. We'll get to some individual posts after things settle in around here a little more!
Frito's Mama
Frito's Feeling Yucky
No Frito style sarcasm around here today. He's not been himself for about a couple of weeks now. At first we thought his mood was down because his dog hasn't been doing so well...then we thought he was having some issues with accepting Lady Fluffy Tail--then with the human's leaving the cats home alone last weekend. But, last week he was really uncharacteristically "clingy" and cuddly all week long. Mom immediately said he was trying to tell her he was getting sick. (She's kooky like that about us!) Dad, not so into such "communication" disagreed. Mom made a vet appointment for later this week anyway because he just wasn't "himself" (we told you she is a little kooky about "the personality" of us kitties!) and immediately after she did, he seemed to be in an out of the litter box more than usual.
He was going potty though, not straining, and no signs of blood or anything. (Big Sal had urinary crystals, and even without blood and meows, Mom sort of suspected this may be Frito's problem.)
Sunday night, the poor kitty was up all night running in and out of the litter box and he just didn't seem to be going (sort of dribbling a bit into his "butt fur") and it seemed to take more effort. He was just miserable. Mom, stressed all week about him anyway, ran him to the vet hospital early this morning.
They are going to keep him for observation today, get a urine sample to test and do an ultrasound to take a look at his bladder and lower "belly". The vet (his favorite weight critic) was not able to get a handle on his bladder to give it a good check because of his size...but, she did say he isn't "blocked' (to which Gina rolled her eyes because we could have told mom that---he's got stinky pee dribbled butt fur this morning!). The issue is more of the fact that we think he is "building" some blockage of some sort--pretty rapidly. Anyway...this particular vet isn't really mom's favorite in the practice either if you hadn't noticed. 
The vet doesn't seem to think it's crystals...or a urinary tract infection. She is jumping right into the possibility that it's a growth or tumor--or fat filled cyst--causing the pressure and discomfort and "bladder spasms". So, poor mister Frito is in for a battery of tests at his least favorite place in the world for the day. Of course, he's going to have his urine tested for bacterial "critters" and enzyme testing, etc. to rule out the "little stuff" first. Mom's hoping he comes home this afternoon with some prescription cat food and an antibiotic (she is suspecting it's a urinary/bladder tract infection & crystals--but she's not a vet you know..)
Now we are in limbo waiting for the vet's call. We girls hate to admit it, but, we are all a little worried about him. We can't imagine our lives without Fatticus. Who else could keep Gina in line and give Lea a proper bath and love stink doggy dog so much??
Frito's Latest Conspiracy Theory
Man, last week was rough! The girls and I got drawn into some issues surrounding Dad’s birthday. The humans went away to “celebrate” his birthday, which is never good for me and Lea. Gina and Lady Fluffy Tail have weird friends over…and it’s really quite stressful. We had heard that the humans had gone to look at a new house—and the very thought of moving again brings on some serious Frito sized furballs. And, it seems that our humans' definition of “new” house is 140 years old. Can anyone else say GHOSTS??? Luckily they didn’t like the neighborhood. Ghosts are okay, but, weird neighbors aren’t?? We’ll never understand humans.
That was bad, but the real problem with dad’s birthday started because in order to get his driver’s license renewed, he had to get glasses. We heard, it was much to Mom’s relief, although we don’t really understand the whole “glasses” thing beyond the ones that hold leftover milk. The girls and I also find the whole “going for a drive” thing completely unnecessary, but the humans and Stink Dog seem to like the car and the outdoors. Apparently they must have exotic destinations besides the vet that we “domesticated” kitties haven’t experienced. Humans.
Anyway, you may be wondering how this became so detrimental to my fragile self esteem, so, please let me explain. As I’ve said in the past, Dad is, and has always been, my greatest ally in my anti-dieting and my “just say no to bathing” campaigns. Well, he comes home Friday with these “glasses”, takes one look at me and says, “When did we get a new dog?” Oh, hardy har har. Like I haven’t heard THAT one before with better delivery. I gave him my best priceless, bored stare with a double tail swish. But, then, he took another look at me and said that I DID need a BATH. A BATH!!! Dad always takes my side when the lady says it’s bath day. Then, he uttered the worst 4 letter word I have ever heard him say in my presence: D-I-E-T.
Well, I get it now. I see the light and I didn't need any "glasses" to do it. He went to a “doctor” to get those glasses, right? Well, the V-E-T claims to be a doctor too—they are all in this thing together, I tell you. It’s some sick conspiracy in the global medical community! Those glasses have affected Dad’s brain. Mind control generated by my vet, promoted and integrated by Dad’s eye “doctor” to further the dreaded “d” and “b” words in pets! It’s a disaster!
There’s only one option. In the interest of freedom as I know it, those glasses need to “disappear”. It shouldn’t be hard; he loses things all the time. Car keys, tools, receipts. It can easily be made to look like an accident. Now, I try to be a well behaved cat. I have battled my love of dogs, plastic and ribbon to varying degrees of success to please these people. I think I’ll have to get Gina involved in this one. She could make this little problem go away…all in the interest of self expression or some weird Gina the Gremlin Cat rage against the...uhh, what's she say? Is it system??…machine? Wait, I think that’s a band that she likes. Sorry, I never really listen to her, but, I will support her from here on out, most of the time, if she does this one little thing for me….I need to get her on board fast though because we are almost out of the “good” cat food and Thursday is already slated to be bath day. Don’t let this happen to you. Say No to Glasses! (unless they are full of leftover milk!)
It's Official: Meet Frito's New Girl!
Lady Fluffy Tail has been named. Before you rush to judgement, the runner up name was Ike. I'll never understand human kids. While odd, I think the current five year old did better with this cat name than they did with me, eh? What kind of get-your-fluff-tail-kicked cat name is Frito?? I mean, I was a BOY, you know?? It pretty much determined immediately that I was going to be an inside cat. What would the guys on the streets say? Embarrassing. Anyway, that's another story for another day...
Today, actually, for the last week, the humans have gotten all caught up in cleaning up the yard from the windstorm that there has been nearly zero cat attention around here. And when they did take time for the cats, it's all been about the great Lady Fluff. The girls and I have all tried to convince it that there are better suited accomodations on down the street. Maybe even a few streets over. I've done my best hissing blowfish act...it always sends the Jack Russell from down the street packing and backs off Grandma's Shih-Tsu when it gets frisky, but this cat just gives me this bored look and stifles a yawn. It's starting to make me question my manhood! Even Peace & Love Lea has been growling at her, but, I guess Lea isn't really very threatening, unless you're a ham sandwich. Gina gives her the evil gremlin stare of doom and this cat doesn't flinch!! Have you seen Gina's voodoo glare?? When she gives me that look, I'd move on down the street if I wasn't absolutely, positively terrified of stepping outside.
Well, with an exhausted sigh, we give in. It looks like I have a new girl after all. But, I won't give her a bath. I draw the line. I have enough hairball issues of my own, thank you. Room and board only. No baths.
Frito's New Girl?!!!?!?
Okay. I'm a pretty tolerant cat. I deal with the females that I have now. Lea's clingy and Gina has authority issues, but I've learned to adapt. The humans think I'm a lap cat and should weigh 15 pounds. I've learned to appease their occasional needs for affection, but diet food is just not my thing...and we have all adapted to that pretty successfully over the years. The little humans have been just a
b-l-a-s-t, let me tell you. Dress up, beauty shop, the not-so-joyful noises that they make...but, once again, I adapted. When I met Sal E., I said, "Oh, no, THAT is not moving in!!", but once I realized that he was totally insane and did not share my passive personality, I adapted. I am the definition of adaptation....until now.
The crazy mom human is trying to befriend another stray that they think is a girl. It's taken her two weeks to get the cat close enough to pet...and she actually had the nerve to CUDDLE this flea ridden, sack of bones in my presence. Can you imagine??? Not only are they bringing in a violin--but another GIRL!!!!
They haven't picked a name for it yet and aren't sure if it's going to "decide" to be ours. Mom think it's hanging out some down the street too. She hopes not, though, because she says it's personality reminds her so much of Sal. Great. Another psycho "tree sticker"...just what I need. I think I feel a hairball coming on. Help???
Fear to Frito's Ears
No, I’m not talking about “a trip to the vet”. That’s bad, yes. I hate those trips as much as anycat. In fact, I’ve been red “psycho” sticky-noted by my vet for years. No, in my childrearing years around here, I have discovered something far worse than that. A few years ago, I heard that we were getting the oldest kid a cello. I wasn’t the most sophisticated cat in town and thought we were going to be making Pudding Pops or Jigglers. I like Jello thingies. Sounded like fun to me. Well, they didn’t tell me that a c and a j can significantly change the meaning of a word while doing little to the sound. Actually a cello can, and did, make some horrible noises and it did NOT sound fun around here for weeks. Then, after weeks of off key “plucking” (which only further complicated the missing parakeet issue in my mind), the kid got to use the thing she called a bow and it got MUCH, MUCH worse. In fact, the first time she used the bow, I had a complete and total out of character, psychotic break. I had been downstairs napping on the middle kid’s bed (where she likes to hide my blanket) and all of a sudden I became certain that something was upstairs torturing some poor creature! I mean, the thing was screaming and howling!!! It was horrible! Just Terrifying! I knew right away that I couldn’t be next. I’m just a little kitty, you know. And I couldn’t let Lea face the monster upstairs. I had to protest and warn everyone! Most importantly, I had to get Gina awake from her perch in the laundry room to go fight the thing off!!! I began to yowl and howl and carried on with such force that the monster upstairs stopped its torturous tirade. . Oddly enough, the one we call mom came into the room in tears—well, sort of. The woman I saw as a sympathetic ally was actually rolling with laughter as she came to drag me from under the blankets. She dragged me upstairs, to the lair of the beast, so that I could see that the sounds were from the kid and the cello and not some killer monster. It was quite a relief, until it occurred to me that the kid would be doing this EVERY DAY to “practice”. Luckily, she improved. I kind of like it now—unless she breaks into the Jaws theme. That still makes the hair on my tail stand up. Anyway, to get to the point. I heard some words yesterday that would stop the heart of any laid back cat: Nope. Not time to go to the vet. And, no, Mom hasn’t taken in a new psycho cat to fill the Sal E. vacancy. I heard Dad say that the 5 year old’s getting a violin. And I thought Gina’s playlist gave me heartburn! Do you think they make ear plugs big enough for these sensitive ears?
Lea's The Flower Child
When I found out that I was going to get my own music posted on the site, I was so happy! I have never really had my own anything. I moved into a house full of people and animals and have always shared everything. Not that it matters much because I have a family now and they all love me, except for Gina, but that's another story. I am safe, except with Gina, and happy and love my life. Things are peaceful and beautiful....hmmm...except for Gina. If I wasn't such a peace loving cat, I think I'd try to do something about her. 
See, I was homeless outside through the winter, and when Mom and the middle human found me, I was starving and full of fleas and mites. I'll have to admit, I smelled awful and looked worse. I was terrified of people and it took me a long time to realize that Mom and my favorite little girl were trying to help me. I try hard to see the good in everyone and everything...an empty bowl of cereal is still half full of milk...a sleeping 4 year old has warm blankets...the two year old can open the treat can...you know, there is beauty in everything....yes, even Gina....when she's sleeping...in another room and doesn't know I'm there.
Frito is an amazing cat. He's warm..he's cuddly...he gives great baths. I love him. I love all of the little humans and Mom, and even Dad now too. Sal E. wasn't very nice to me when we were on the outside, but he was cool once I moved in here. The old dog sort of scares me, so I try to keep out of his way.
Dad's pillow is about the only thing I ever consider fighting for. That's just because it's close to Mom, and I can hide there sometimes when Gina's sleeping on Mom's other shoulder. We both get to sleep with Mom and Gina doesn't freak out or anything, until Dad tries to reclaim his pillow and we wake up the whole upstairs.
Anyway, I love to feel calm and at peace. Happy. Frito's music is okay. A little too bluesy for me. Gina's? I feel a hairball coming on just thinking about it. Peace and love.
Lea
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