Another Awful Trip to the Vet

Daddy scooped me up this morning and put me in my cat carrier and took me to that nasty vet for a check-up, and they gave me a vaccine and a bunch of other stuff and put me back in my carrier, but at the last minute they took me out again because they decided to draw some blood for a test and I did NOT LIKE it and I threw such a fit that they had to put me in a bag—yes, a burlap bag!--that my head stuck out of so they could hold me while they took my blood with a needle, and it took the doctor four times to try and take my blood because I REFUSED to let them come near me, and the doctor joked that I was “channelling Gerald” since Gerald always hated doctors. So after I came home, I went right to sleep ‘cause I was exhausted, and I curled up next to Daddy’s teddy bear Muskie (short for “Musqueam”, one of the first nation peoples that live in the area of Vancouver, Canada), and I looked like this:

And as a reward for being such a good kitty, Daddy brought out the tunnel toy he once got from the vet, and I spent the afternoon playing in it like this:

The Secret of the Kitty-Purr has been Discovered!

News flash! Scientists at the University of Sussex in the U.K. have stumbled upon one of the biggest secrets that we kitties have—the secret of how we use our purr to manipulate our humans! These scientists call it our "soliciting purr" and one doctor said that our "pestering purr often convinced beleaguered pet lovers to get up and fill their cat's bowl." Well, duh! What else would we kitties want? If you want to read the whole story on BBC news, click HERE

And of course we kitties are the experts at training our humans, and it was my brother Gerald that taught me all the tricks of the trade 'cause he was an absolute master at manipulating Daddy, and Gerald told me that every kitty has to develop his own special method, because that's what makes each kitty unique and is one of the reasons humans love us so much. So if you want to see what I do to get my Daddy to feed me, watch this clip of how I led him into the kitchen this morning and straight to the fridge and then to my food dish by meowing and purring combined...

And even though I meowed a lot in this film, believe me, Daddy did feed me! And afterwards I went and sat in a sun beam and washed my paws real nice and gave myself a good bath:

And then I took a late-morning nap in the sun on the upstairs landing:

And when the sunbeam moved I went downstairs to my kitty basket in the bay window and got myself all comfy for my afternoon nap:

But I woke up when Daddy opened the curtain so I could look out on my front yard, which was fun to watch:

And then in the evening I sat in Uncle Kevin's lap and gave him my "soliciting purr" because I wanted him to stroke me:

And it worked, and he let me sit on his new scarf:

So I put in a lot of hard work today!

Anal Glands, Ear Drops, and My Trip to the Vet

Sometimes I think humans are just clueless cause it takes them forever to figure out what I’m saying, and I’ve spent five days giving Daddy clues by roaming around the living room and changing my eating habits and pawing at things, but all Daddy hears is “meow meow meow blah blah blah meow meow meow,” when what I was really saying was, “Come on Daddy! I don’t feel good! Do something!” And when that didn't work, I would sit very still and show him general disdain, like this:

It all started last Tuesday when Daddy brought me a new bag of kibble and I was so excited that I just scarfed bowls of it down, it was so good! And this is my kidney-diet kibble which comes in hard crunchy pellets which is just yummy. But then when I went poo in my kitty box, my bum felt really sore, so I went off eating the hard kibble; and on Wednesday I had a wet and gooey poo which did not make me happy, and I meowed to Daddy, and he thought I wanted kibble, so he gave me some, but I turned away and didn’t eat it, and that confused Daddy; and even when he would give me some hard kitty-treats in the evening, I turned them down. And sometimes when I got so hungry that I would have to eat the hard kibble, I only ate little bits, and I’d shake my head, and I’d let some of it fall out of my mouth. And I got so upset that my ears started itching, and I scratched and scratched my right ear so much that it started to bleed a little bit. And Daddy thought maybe I had a toothache because I wouldn’t eat my hard kibble; and then on Thursday Daddy noticed that my bum was sore, and there was a little trail of grainy stuff on my belly from where my poo had come out, so on Friday morning Daddy went to the vet and got some canned kidney diet food, and he gave it to me and WOW, I loved it:

And it didn’t hurt my bum when I pooed, even though I kept having wet and stinky poos; so all weekend I kept telling Daddy, give me more of that wet canned food! And he did, and I loved eating it, but he ran out of it on Sunday afternoon, and I didn’t want of that hard kibble stuff, so I starved Sunday night.

But then today is Monday, and this morning Daddy scooped me up and put me in my cat carrier, and I HATED it cause I knew it meant I was going to that nasty VET again, and sure enough, that’s where I ended up. My picture is in their newsletter and you would think they’d treat me special for that, but NO! The doctor picked me up and weighed me (I’m 6.4 kg, or just over 14 pounds, which means I’ve actually gained some weight since last visit), and he looked all over my teeth and found no inflammation or redness, and my throat glands weren’t swollen (I could have told him that!), then he listened to my heartbeat, but I decided to make it difficult for him by purring real loud, then he stuck that stupid thermometer up my kitty bum and discovered my temperature was perfectly normal (I could have told him that, too!). Then finally it dawned on him that I might have something wrong with my anal glands—at last, FINALLY one the humans figured out what was wrong. But then, what did the doctor do? He put on a rubber glover, grabbed a paper towel and some antiseptic, had Daddy hold me by the scruff of my neck, and then he probed my anal glands. YIKES! It was NOT FUN! My glands were all dirty and clogged and inflamed, and he squeezed the granular stuff from them, and I YOWLED and I SCREAMED and I decided, I’VE HAD IT WITH THIS PROCEDURE, so I swiped at Daddy with my back feet and clawed him real good on his right wrist (luckily for Daddy, he had clipped my claws a couple days ago, otherwise I would have gouged him), and I said to myself, if I were my brother Gerald, I’d be hissing and spitting and biting long before this; I’m usually such a quiet and timid cat at the vet, but this time they’ve gone too far—leave my kitty bum alone! And then the doctor put all sorts of antiseptic on my belly (since it was covered will some nasty-looking granules, and I was not looking forward to licking myself later). And then, to crown it all, he had to look in my ears! We cats HATE having our ears looked at. And not only did he stick an ear-scope down my ear canal, he put this sticky ear fluid in BOTH my ears. NO, NO, NO! I tried real hard to shake my ear and aim that stuff right at the doctor’s eye, but he was took quick for me and he put me on the floor before I could aim. But he let me run into my cage, and it was all over, and a good thing, too, because I was DONE with all this nonsense. And my ears looked like this:

Then Daddy paid the bill and bought some more soft kidney diet food, and as we were going out the door, he struck up a conversation with a couple who were bringing their cat to the vet, and he was a gorgeous longhair white cat with grey patches, and it turns out his name is Oscar, too! And they got this Oscar from the Cartlon Vet a few months ago as a kitten (I wonder if he was named after me, given that I’m their star patient?). And I felt such sympathy for that Oscar, because Lord knows what that doctor had in store for him!

When I got home, I was ready to get a major spoiling from Daddy; I deserved it. I still had little bits of granules all over my face:
So he tried to give me some more of that hard kibble, and I meowed, NO WAY! So he gave me some of that yummy soft kidney diet food, and I devoured it, I was so hungry. And when I was done, I licked myself all over, cause my ears were still wet from that yucchy stuff the doctor put inside them, and my bum was wet from the antiseptic, and I just looked a mess. And I don’t like looking like a mess! So it took me ALL DAY to lick myself back into shape.

But I'm still mad at Daddy:

Uncle Kevin is Building a Greenhouse

I'm very excited because Uncle Kevin is building a greenhouse in our backyard so he can grow his orchids out there and all the parts for the greenhouse are in the dining room and they all smell interesting, and as you can see I've been investigating them thoroughly:



Uncle Kevin starts by assembling a frame made out of PVC pipe:


and he'll put the green shadecloth on next, and then put shelves on the inside for all his orchids. And I was such a good boy and didn't bother Uncle Kevin while he was working, and so whenever he takes a break, HE OWES ME, so I climb into his lap and purr and purr and purr, like this:

And then Daddy gives me an ice-cream treat:


and then a little drink of water:

And then I lay down for my afternoon nap in my basket, which Daddy very kindly put next to the heater in the living room, and I dream about that mouse that we haven't seen for a whole week now:

I'm a Star!

Guess what! I'm featured in a newsletter for the Carlton Veterinary Clinic! I'm the "Patient of the Month" and my story is used to flag the "Senior Cat Program" at the vet, cause they figure that I'm 14 years old now and keep coming back to have my blood pressure taken and my urine sampled and all that stuff I always complain about. So my picture is on the cover, like this:


And if you want to read the article, just go to www.carltonvet.com.au, click on the "Newsletter" link and ask them to email you a copy. I'm so proud of myself! And if you want to know the secret to my longevity, it's all due to frequent naps in the sun:

and plenty of self-grooming:

and my Daddy feeds me lasagna (I'm just like Garfield!):

and then plenty of exercise. Lately I've been prowling through my house each night to make sure that a mouse isn't running around, and guess what! We have a third mouse in the house, and Kevin saw it last Saturday afternoon running around the kitchen floor when Kevin was on the phone, and he saw it again just today (Friday) hopping behind the stove, but Daddy hasn't seen it yet, but I know it's around cause I can SMELL it and I've been sniffing real hard behind the bookcases and the filing cabinet and under the couch...

So, if you're a kitty like me, then exercise, good food, and naps in the sunshine will help you live longer. Don't I look just adorable? No wonder the vet newsletter made me a star:

Do these mice think I'm a useless cat?

Uncle Kevin caught a second mouse today with his live trap, and it was a big ginger-colored mouse that looked like this:


And I didn't catch him, 'cause he was a big mouse that had Gerald-colored fur, and he always spooked me out a little bit whenever I saw him. So Uncle Kevin took him to the park and set him free and took some pictures of him all excited about getting out of his trap:


But I'm pretty sure there's more mice since Daddy saw a tiny mouse sticking his head out of the vacuum-cleaner house in the bathroom; and if Uncle Kevin has already caught two mice, then there are probably more living in the house, and they're probably in the downstairs bathroom where my litter box is. Daddy realized that mice eat poop, and that it looked like my poop was disappearing, so we wonder if the mice are stealing my poop! So Daddy moved my litter box upstairs away from the mice, and I just want those mice outta my house!

There's another Mouse in my House!!!

I'm sitting here licking myself and congratulating myself because Daddy finally figured out the kitty secret I've been keeping all day: there's another mouse in my house! I saw it earlier today after the Mousey-Mouse was taken to the park; and the second mouse is a bigger mouse than the one that got caught, and I kept trying to tell Daddy and Uncle Kevin that I had seen him, but they didn't understand, until finally this evening Daddy saw the big mouse twice in the kitchen running underneath the stove. So they're going to have to set up the trap again to catch him, and I think Daddy has given him a name: Big-Mouse. But I'm very satisfied with myself that I had a kitty secret that they couldn't figure out, so I'm going to treat myself to a licking and a stretch:

The Mousey-Mouse has gone to his new home

This morning when Uncle Kevin got up, he went into the second bedroom to say hello to the Mousey-Mouse, and Uncle Kevin was so quiet because he didn't want me to know what was going on, but I could tell, and Uncle Kevin told Daddy that the Mousey-Mouse was much more calm this morning, so Uncle Kevin took lots of pictures, like this one:


And Uncle Kevin said the Mousey-Mouse had such "perfect little ears," and Daddy went "ewww, yucch," and I thought, "hey, I have perfect little ears myself!." Uncle Kevin thinks the mouse is cute, which is why he didn't kill it; so he took the box that contained the Mousey-Mouse's cage and carried it to the park, and set it on the ground like this:


and then he opened the cage, and the Mousey-Mouse looked around like this:

and then the Mousey-Mouse scampered off into his new home, which looks like this:

And that's the last we'll see of that Mousey-Mouse in my house, unless he has homing instincts. But Daddy and Uncle Kevin don't know what I know. I know a kitty secret! And when Uncle Kevin came back home, I tried to get him and Daddy to notice me by pacing back and forth all around the house, and meowing and meowing. But they just decided I was ready to be worshipped again, like this when Uncle Kevin offered me some of his morning coffee:


But I don't do caffeine.