R.I.P. Mick, continued

"Thousands of years ago cats were worshipped as gods. 

They have never forgotten this."

- Anonymous

My mom reminded me of some other funny times with the cat:

Sometimes when I would be sitting on the couch eating, watching TV, he would sit right next to me. Occasionally he would slowly stretch one paw out towards the plate. He would look up at me like, "Uh, are you going to finish that?" Then he would rest his paw on the edge of the plate. Just rest it there and stare at me. Not going in for the kill, but letting me know that he was there and would be happy to take over if I needed him to.

One time during a particularly hot summer, my mom put some ice cubes in his water bowl. He immediately batted them out of the water and proceeded to swat them around the kitchen and dining room as if he was playing hockey.

He loved to finish off individual sized yogurt containers. He would dip a paw in and sweep up a bit of the yogurt and then delicately lick it off his paw. Eventually he would just stick his whole head inside the container to get every last drop. Then spend the next half hour trying to clean the yogurt off of his ears.

Sometimes it seemed he would actually team up with the dogs. If we had something on the counter that they all wanted, Mick would jump up on the counter, scoot said food to the edge where the dogs could man-handle it to the floor and get it open. Then it would be a free-for-all with both dogs and the cat scrambling for whatever they could get until we ran into the kitchen to put a stop to it.

Every once in a while he would sit up on the back of the couch behind me. Sometimes he would suddenly start to lick the back of my head, as if he suddenly decided, "The back of this guy's melon needs a bath. I'd better get to work."

Every time someone opened a can, Mick would go crazy. Meowing, mewing, winding around your legs. Standing on his hind legs and stretching up the cabinets to try to see what it was that was being opened. Didn't matter if it was beets, corn, soup, cat food, beans - he wanted it. Badly. In this he trained the dogs quite well too. They are now the same way if a can is opened.

It's also true that you only hear a cat jump OFF the counter, never on to it. And by that time it's too late. You hear a soft "whoomp" and think to yourself, "Hmmm... that sounded just like a cat full of roast beef jumping off the counter..."

KJT - Seattle (2008) (Second pic was taken by my friend EL in Sept.)

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R.I.P. Kitty Cat

"What kind of cat is Mick Jagger?"

"He's a Kitty-cat!"

- Shady-Bob, responding to his girlfriend's question about my cat, circa 1998

Mick Jagger has left the building.

I had to put my scruffy old cat to sleep this morning. He was deteriorating pretty fast. Extremely skinny, pretty wobbly, occasionally puked blood, and was losing control of his bowels.

He had a long life. As best we can tell, he was probably between 16 and 20 years old. I got him in 1992, and he was already an adult cat. My girlfriend at the time's sister's co-worker had four cats and was moving and could only have three at their new place. Mick was the odd-man-out, mainly because of his attitude (bad). She asked me if I wanted to take him and I said yes. I named him after the front man of my favorite band, and tried to get acquainted. Easier said than done. He buried himself in the back of several closets for the first three days and I didn't see or hear one peep out of him. I kept trying to coax him out, but he was having none of it. I figured he was just going to die in the back of my closet.

The night of the third day, I was suddenly awoken from slumber by the cat standing on my chest, meowing, and licking my face. He's been my buddy ever since. I guess he just needed some time to adjust to his new bearings, and then decided I was alright after all.

He was crotchety right from the start. He hated other cats, despised dogs, and didn't want anything to do with people either. For the first 6 or 7 years, most people didn't even know I had a cat because he would never show himself if anyone was around. But every night he'd jump up on the bed, curl up next to me, and purr himself to sleep.

In his older age he seemed to mellow out a bit, and would come out to see what was going on when people would come over. He still hated other cats and dogs though. When we got our two dogs he spent a good amount of time punching the shit out of them and hissing like nobody's business. The dogs learned to stay out of his way for the most part.

He'd been steadily losing weight for some time and we could tell he wasn't as comfortable as he used to be. He would hide more often, but still would creep out to lay on my chest while we watched movies.

Last night he slept all night in the bed, which was unusual lately. I think he felt he was nearing the end, and I didn't want him to hurt or suffer. The doctor said she thought she felt a mass near in his abdomen, but she might have just been saying that for my benefit. Either way, he wasn't doing well, and now he's not in any pain.

R.I.P. Mick Jagger, miss you buddy...

KJT - Seattle (2008)

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Puppy Malaise, Part 4

A dog thinks, "Hey, these people I live with feed me, love me, 

provide me with a nice warm, dry house, pet me, and take good care of me. They must be Gods."

A cat thinks, "Hey, these people I live with feed me, love me, 

provide me with a nice warm, dry house, pet me, and take good care of me. I must be a God!"

- Unknown

Kaiser continues on the roller coaster of health he's been riding for the last six weeks or so. He hasn't had a fever in over a week now, and even his hind leg seems to be getting much better. He can walk fairly normally on it, and once again jump up on the couches and beds (yes, we spoil the animals rotten...) without too much trouble. You can still tell the leg is weak when he climbs the stairs. The new problem (will this ever end?) seems to be gastro-intestinal. He's been throwing up daily, and what comes out of the other end is, well, let's just say it's the consistency of soft-serve ice cream, at best. We've tried going to a strict diet of white rice and boiled chicken, with little results. Now, per vet instruction, we're attempting to medicate with Pepcid. The saga continues...

I'm not sure I've mentioned the fifth member of the family, the crotchety, old cat "Mick Jagger." He's of indeterminate age, but we're guessing near 18 or 19 years. He's now quite skinny, bitchy, and constantly goes outside, eats grass, comes in and throws up on the carpet. So it's a joyous time in the house, with the cat and dog competing for most spectacular, or appropriately-placed vomit. 

The wonders of 'parenthood'...

KJT - Seattle (2008) Kaiser & Mick Jagger

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