Whine and Cheese

"I really don't want another cat," I said to my co-worker back in 2003.

The cat was a small stray she and her husband had found at their rural house. She was guestimated to be around two years old and they had named her Zinnia. She insisted that I needed another cat, that my one cat Murphy needed a companion for those days I was out of town. I stated that I couldn't take her because she had claws and wasn't fixed. It was a grand excuse really. However, she showed up soon with the same cat, front claws gone and spayed. Now I had no reason to say no, so reluctantly, I accepted her.

So, the cat gave up her plans for world domination and her ovaries, albeit involuntarily, and moved in with Murphy and me. I renamed her Maggie the Cat (TM).


Maggie the Cat (photo by mikiedoggie)
2002(?) - March 7, 2016
Unlike Murphy who was very affectionate and playful, Maggie was neither. She was aloof and skittish. Where Murphy was more of a pet, Maggie was almost like a roommate. She would fool with me only when it suited her. She often fought with Murphy anytime he wanted to play. Luckily, her lack of front claws saved him from serious harm, but it never deterred him from trying to snuggle up to her.

When Murphy got sick and left us in 2013, Maggie took up the mantle of head housecat, resulting in a big reversal of behavior. She was still aloof, but seemed to want to be in my lap more often. She was more affectionate. She seemed to enjoy being around me. The line between being playful with her and annoying her was still very fuzzy, and I have the scars to prove it.


Maggie the Cat Attacks!
As I'd mentioned in a previous post, Maggie had a seizure over the weekend. The vet initially called me on Sunday evening to let me know that she hadn't had another seizure and I could pick up her the following morning. When I went to the vet ER this morning to get her, they informed me that she had two seizure episodes around 4 AM. The vet told me that the blood I'd seen was the result of Maggie biting her tongue during the seizure, which she had done again there, meaning that she had likely had one or more while I was out of town. They recommended I take her to my usual vet and discuss the possibility of seizure meds.

I left the Vet ER to my usual veterinarian immediately. He and I had a frank discussion. He said that in cats Maggie's age such seizures are often the result of brain tumors or lesions. To determine if this was the case, it would be a costly MRI. He said that the end result would be knowing a physical defect was there, but there was nothing they could do about it. Maggie would get worse over time. I weighed the options, including the amount of care I could give her with the quality of life she would have.

It is one of those decisions that we have to make that truly places us in the grown-up category. I've done it before, but the idea of choosing euthanasia for a pet you care for is horrific, no matter how much sense it makes logically.

Maggie put up a fuss one last time on me, drawing blood on both hands and nearly getting the veterinarian too. She always hated going to the vet, and almost always bit me when there. So this was normal. She definitely had felt better. He gave her a couple of shots and it was over. I kissed her forehead one last time and stroked her chin. We wrapped her in a thin, white towel and placed her in her carrier. I cried all the way home.

I took her inside our house one last time. I grabbed a couple of things and then took her into the woods behind the house. I found a nice tree for a marker, dug her a grave, and gently placed her inside. I put Murphy's ashes next to her, said a little prayer, and finished up. I placed a small log to block it off.

Be nice to Murphy when you see him on the Rainbow Bridge, Maggie. He'll show you the ropes.

And remember that I love you.

It's been over three weeks since Murphy the Cat took off for the Rainbow Bridge and it's been something of an adjustment in the house for both me and for Maggie the Cat.

Maggie has always been the aloof, skittish kitty that would scramble the moment someone new came into the house. She would get in my lap on occasion, but usually was quite content to park herself on the back of the couch. She wasn't very vocal. She usually wasn't much for being petted. I always referred to Murphy as my buddy and Maggie as my roommate.

Since Murphy passed away, Maggie's behavior has done an almost full 180 degree change. It's almost as though she knows that she's now the top cat in the house with all the duties and obligations that come with the title.

Now she wants in my lap all the time. She meows at me when I come home, happy chirp sounds sometimes. She sleeps next to me in bed and doesn't mind being petted (usually). She follows me from room to room sometimes. Even when aceofspace was here last weekend, she rubbed up against his leg when she normally would scamper away at the sight of him.

I'm happy with the change in her behavior, but it's making me wonder if getting another cat, or even a kitten, to keep her company during the day is a good idea. I suspect she'd likely accept a kitten over an adult, but I also worry that the kitten's high energy would not be compatible with her low-key (and often low-patience) nature.

It's something to think about. Meanwhile, I'll try to take cute photos of her now that she's acting cute.

In 2002, I was cat-less. A coworker said she had an orange-striped cat that she wanted to find a home for and asked if I'd take "her." I agreed, and when she showed up with this behemoth of a cat, I immediately knew it wasn't a female. Due to some gender confusion by my coworker about her then-new kitten, her cat was saddled with female pronouns. I didn't want a male cat, but she made me a deal for me to keep him for two weeks as a trial run. For two weeks, this cat hid in the storage space under the main floor of my house. I went and got him twice, only to have him run back in. He ate and got water in the night when I was sleeping.

At my wit's end, I called her and told her to come and get him, as the cat was clearly miserable. She asked if I'd keep him over the weekend and that she'd come and get him on Monday. I agreed. As I hung up the phone and turned around, the cat was sitting on the top stair looking at me. We had an understanding now. He had moved in.

That cat was Murphy.


Murphy the Cat
Born 2000 - Died August 13, 2013

The veterinarian called me this afternoon to tell me that the mass in Murphy's tummy was likely cancer. He gave me several options, but none of them were good. The expensive surgery would need to be followed up with cancer care, such as chemotherapy. Whether a biopsy showed it was cancer or not, the mass needed to be removed and Murphy was terribly weak already. He said I could just take him home and we'd treat him with medication, but the idea of him slowly wasting away was horrible to me. The final choice was letting him go. The vet told me to come to the office and we could discuss it further after work.

When I went there, they brought me Murphy. He was more alert, but so weak that he couldn't do much more than lay in my lap. He meowed a bit and I stroked his back. As I held him it made me realize that none of the choices but one was appropriate. I love him so much and it's the roughest decision a pet owner can make. I finally told the doctor that I could not let him suffer. She understood completely. I had some time alone with him, hugged him, kissed his head, begged him to forgive me, and told him how much I loved him repeatedly. He was purring finally.

The doctor returned and gave him the overdose of sedative while I held his head. He was gone so quickly and quietly, like a candle burning out. I felt so guilty, so empty, but logically I knew it had to be done.

When I was a kid, I remember a Baptist preacher telling me that people went to Heaven and that pets didn't when they died. People have souls, he said, and pets do not. Even as a child, I thought that sounded so amazingly wrong. I couldn't imagine a God that created such wonderful puppies and kittens to make us happy and share our lives and then just let them blink out of existence.

Over the years, I have had a few pets, each one had a different personality, a different way of reacting to me and others, showing the individuality of them all. I loved them all. While they may not be able to think like a human, they do feel and I think they can care for us. They sometimes find us, not the other way around.

As I held Murphy as his life faded away, I hurt so inside. Murphy left for Heaven, leaving me behind. I hope to see him again someday.

He left here with a soul.

At the very least, he left here with the piece of mine I gave him.

I love you, Murphy.

The weekend was kind of blah after Murphy's stressful visit to the vet's office. Now I'm getting concerned about his behavior since.



When we got home on Friday, he fell over and acted incredibly cute, very normal behavior for him. I walked up to the kitchen and he ate like a horse. He was famished. I thought this was okay as I thought he was just stress eating a bit.

Then the weird behavior started the next day. He would sleep in the middle of the floor... anywhere. I would catch him drinking water and making the odd mewing sounds. He seemed very tired, like he aged overnight. At first I thought he was mad at me, but now I'm thinking he doesn't feel well. I know the vet visit stressed him out, so I was concerned that this was the after-effect.

I did some checking online. He got his vaccination shots while we were at the vet and there are several blogs where cats have odd behaviors afterward. They suggest that after getting shots, their immune system is reacting to them, making them feel odd and maybe even a bit sick, so I'm wondering if that's the problem.

Has anyone gone through this with their pet before?

Ugh. Rainy Monday morning. Karen Carpenter would have needed pep pills to get through this one. Bless her.


Murphy the Cat has the right idea. I envy him the ability to sleep in every day. Oh well. It was a busy weekend:

• I saw R.I.P.D. on Friday. While Rotten Tomatoes is currently tearing this movie apart with its reviews, I have to say that I enjoyed it. My love of Ryan Reynolds went undiminished, though the movie was sorely lacking in any shirtlessness on his part. Jeff Bridges stole the show though with his old-time cowboy character Roy. The story revolves around a young cop who dies and is recruited for the Rest In Peace Department (RIPD) whose job is to capture the undead who didn't leave this world. I thought it was a fun movie.
  
  
• The Cincinnati MovieBears went to see RED 2 on Saturday. I caught the first RED at home on DVD the night before. It's basically a big "shoot-em-up" movie with some great humor thrown in. Helen Mirren is wonderfully bad @$$ in the film. Funny enough, Mary-Louise Parker plays Bruce Willis' overly-eager spy girlfriend in the movie and plays the "Proctor" in RIPD, so she had two movies released on the same day. It was a lot of fun to watch. No one in the group appeared disappointed. We're starting to move the outings to different theaters in the Cincinnati area, so variety is going to be the norm for a while.
  
  
• After the movie, the group went to dinner at Cheddars where we all overdosed on good tasting, but bad for you food. I admit that the next day I was feeling a bit of the food hangover with an upset tummy and a complete lack of desire to do anything. I slept alot.

Now Monday has arrived and I'm acting boss all week. Um... yay...

So far, not much has happened this week. I'm not complaining, as last weekend was quite the blow-out of things to do. A bit of downtime is in order.

After work, I skipped my usual workout for two hours of yardwork -- cleaning gutters, trimming bushes, weed-eating the tough spots, raking and mowing. I'm sure my pregnant neighbor (at least I think she's preggers, I didn't ask just in case she was just gaining weight) would have preferred I put my shirt on.

The fun of mowing the yard and such is that I come into the house with a very lawn-landed, earthy odor that the cats love! I usually don't get this much attention from them, but they smell freshly cut grass on my legs and go rubbing them. Murphy has even tripped me doing this.

Not much else to report, just looking forward to the weekend.

Happy Green Shirt Thursday!

It's good to be off today, considering I went to bed around 5 AM this morning. My sleep schedule is a bit skewed because of the NYE party I went to. I did some cartooning, so I put the late night to good use.

After this morning's workout, I showered and dressed and went out for lunch. I bought some birthday cards to send out for my nephew and brother. While I was out, the snow started falling fast and furious. I was getting nervous about that as snow makes people drive like nutjobs.

I stopped by the post office to send out the cards and a woman stopped in to see the postmaster. The post office window was closed due to the holiday. I suspect that I must have one of those faces suited for counseling or something, because often strangers will stop and tell me all sorts of things without my asking. I get stopped in department stores and asked for help, even though I'm in jeans and tee-shirt with no apparel to suggest I work there. This woman stopped me in this relatively deserted post office to show me the Christmas cards she sent out that were mangled in the shipping. She wanted to give the post office a piece of her mind and I think she believed I worked there because I knew why the window was closed. I gave her a polite "wow, that's rough..." and left.

So I'm home now and am happy to be in the warm house and giving Murphy a bit of attention. It's win-win, because he's really warm and I have a bit of a chill.

And to close out 2011, I counted my Found Money for this year: $3.96. It's slowly going up from the 2009 total ($3.17) and 2010 total ($3.51). I so need a life.

My big (and only) sister hits the big 4-0 today. I haven't quite figured out if she's happy about it or not. She leans one way, then the next it seems, but maybe that's only to fart. I'll be calling her later to see what she's up to and to sing horribly to her. I'm hoping she's got big plans. I wish her birthday had fallen on the weekend so I could swing home.

Softball last night was fun. We only lost by three runs, but I had at least one beautiful shot to the outfield. My teammates even said let loose a big grunt when it smacked it. Sadly it got caught, but it looked really good. One day I'll go over that fence, I promise. It was a good night though, perfect weather, and the Lesbian team we played included some really jokers.

I snapped this other night when Murphy wasn't being a pest while I was drawing. My couches are only a couple of years old, but the back pillows have these huge depressions in them. They are essentially kitteh sleeping compartments. It's hard to get upset with him when he looks this cute. I'll just fluff the pillows up later.

Happy hump day, y'all....

While this may look like abuse, I promise you it isn't. Murphy is a 15-lb. monster of a kitty and is very sturdy. You'll notice he doesn't run away, but comes back for more. Here is 90 seconds of subjective cuteness.

Yesterday I went to a new Half-Price Books shop that opened up down the road from here. I love the place and it was the grand opening weekend, so it's attracted huge crowds. I feel sorry for the poor person in the padded bookworm suit. I laughed after getting this photo at the guy handing out coupons at the door. I just caught him in a perfect eye-rolling moment. I snagged a few DVD's, but the place was really far too crowded to do any good book shopping, so I left after standing in line at the checkout for twenty minutes or so. I'll definitely go back.

This morning, I got up to see even more snow falling. Sigh... I was off anyway for the holiday, but the streets look bad enough that I'd have taken the day off anyway. I opened the front door to watch the snow fall and Murphy the Cat, who can sense the opening of the front door no matter where he is in the house, came running. He meowed the sound that says, "please let me go outside."

Heh... okay...

So I picked him up and dropped him in the snow right next to the porch, which came up past his chest and sides. And Murph is a big kitty. He's also a big pussy, and realizing now that snow is wet and cold, he wussed out and wanted back in. It was funny to see him pawing at the screen door from the other side for a change.

Not sure what today will bring, but the snow-covered streets make for few options. Watching a shirtless Mike Rowe on "Dirty Jobs" doesn't hurt though. My god, what a chest on that man... *drool*