Seriously? I mean, really?
Because Boobah (he of the great head wound) doesn't have enough trouble?
I spent a very restless night with the Kitten With No Name; he yakked twice more and laid around lethargically until about 2:00AM, when he got up, took a tremendous, stinky dump in the litterbox I brought to the bedroom for him (yeah, I'm oversharing), then proceeded to eat, drink, and play like a perfectly healthy kitten, even though is ribs and hips are sticking out all over.
We've had two cool days after a couple weeks of heat, so I left all the windows open in the house last night. We live in an area where winds can gust quite quickly, going from 0 to 20 MPH in the blink of an eye. This morning, about half an hour ago, the gusts started.
Boobah was laying outside my office door, quite sound asleep when the wind kicked up, sailing through the house and slamming doors everywhere.
One of them slammed on the tip of his tail.
The very tippy-tip, the very end. And it hacked off about 1/16th of an inch of flesh and hair, as though with a meat cleaver.
Why. Why, why, why?
He's lost more flesh in a friendly catfight, but honestly, this cat just doesn't need any more injuries!
Poor, poor Boobah!
I spent a very restless night with the Kitten With No Name; he yakked twice more and laid around lethargically until about 2:00AM, when he got up, took a tremendous, stinky dump in the litterbox I brought to the bedroom for him (yeah, I'm oversharing), then proceeded to eat, drink, and play like a perfectly healthy kitten, even though is ribs and hips are sticking out all over.
We've had two cool days after a couple weeks of heat, so I left all the windows open in the house last night. We live in an area where winds can gust quite quickly, going from 0 to 20 MPH in the blink of an eye. This morning, about half an hour ago, the gusts started.
Boobah was laying outside my office door, quite sound asleep when the wind kicked up, sailing through the house and slamming doors everywhere.
One of them slammed on the tip of his tail.
The very tippy-tip, the very end. And it hacked off about 1/16th of an inch of flesh and hair, as though with a meat cleaver.
Why. Why, why, why?
He's lost more flesh in a friendly catfight, but honestly, this cat just doesn't need any more injuries!
Poor, poor Boobah!
Poor Boobah! He's just one of those cats that stuff happens to, I guess. Hopefully he and the Kitten with No Name will become buddies - at least they don't need to hear each other in the same way we need to be heard by them.
I had a white, deaf cat once (heard somewhere that white cats tend toward deafness, don't know if or why it's true), and Fartin' Martin was fine with being deaf once he got used to being around people and he could feel the vibrations of us moving around. He was an outdoor rescue, too, so I can only imagine how scary the city was to a deaf cat.
As the person (can't say owner) of 11 cats, I know well what it feels like when you say, "No more," and then along comes another cat. You done good, Rachelle, you made a cat happy. Once he's done yacking and stinking, anyway.
Poor Boobah! He's such a cute guy. I'm glad the newest member of society is finally adjusting! How does Hotness like him, and is the rest of the pride (I don't know any other plural for cats, so I used the one for lions) like him?