Hop Along Cattiday: NotSoNiceBunny: Looks like I 'won' in the Who Gets Hurt next pool (torn calf muscle, got it at work, am supposed to try to imitate a sleeping cat as much as possible for the next two days)

At least I have my new phone w/camera! I may be able to get some kitty shots. And, if it keeps snowing, I may try sending hubby out into the cold with a harnessed cat to get some pics, too ;)


HUGZ!!Sending Warm Soothing Healing Thoughts Your Way!
[i1191.photobucket.com image 225x225]

Thanks for the well wishes :) So far, so good, even if I am going a bit stir crazy with all the lounging. Think I need a new book or four to make it through all this (but can't go to the book store and anything I ordered would arrive after the need... *pout*)

The prologue is either from the orange or black cat. I am not sure which. I left the computer unattended while writing and came back to this. They've never "written" before.
P[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;
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This probably isn't good for kids to read.

Day 0

Our cats are getting older. I started to prepare myself. The needy and affectionate black kitty that has allergies and throws up too much. The orange one that came to us looking like he was an inch from death. Those were the ones that I thought would go first. Those were the ones I was preparing for. Black Cat would likely develop some other affliction that caused more damage to the carpet, and Orange Cat would probably add some new gross skin condition to his arsenal. I loved them. I was OK with that. It was expected. These were my first pets as a "grown up" and I was going to lovingly deal with whatever illnesses they developed and if the vet said it was time, I would be OK with that. I thought about it, knew it was going to happen, and mentally prepared myself. But I didn't prepare for this.

She was our baby kitty. She was only three and a half. She was healthy, happy, fit. Her purr meter was set to high. Her fur was soft. She was shy with strangers but the town crier at home. Her meow was a resounding "Moo!" and with her black and white coloring, she was quickly nicknamed the Cow Kitty. She corralled the old timers and somehow managed to sneak into their cuddle range time and time again (even though Mr Orange is a big curmudgeon and Black Kitty is a couch hog). She was a Good Cat. She was the only one we raised from a kitten.

Day 1

We wake up Monday morning and start to get ready for work. We washed towels last night and there are none in the bathroom, Sammy pledges he will get one from the dryer. A knock on the shower door. There is still sleep in my eyes. Something is wrong with one of the cats? My hair is wet and there are no towels. I fumble Sammy's bathrobe on.

Our Baby Kitty, our sweetest kitty, is dead. She did not hide in a dark corner as if she was sick. There is no blood. No sign of struggle. She is on her fuzzy blanket on the couch. Her eyes are open. I wish they weren't. She is not curled up into a ball like she would be normally. Sammy is crying. Baby Kitty is his favorite kitty. She comforted him as a kitten when he was very sick. He raised her.

We have to find something to put her in. I find a box, but it's not big enough. I'm crying too. It's hard to see. I pet her and her fur is still soft as ever. I find another box in a closet and wildly fling its contents on the floor. Thank god for the fuzzy blanket. I wrap it around her and slide her into the box. Her tail does not fit. I lose it for a second. Sammy does not see. I carry the box into the laundry room. It's heavy. We have to go to work. I leave her there. We will come back. It's still hard to see.

Sammy carries the pick-ax and I have the shovel. We walk a bit and find a place that has a nice view of the countryside. We can't see it from the house, but it is a few small steps from the back deck. We start to dig. It's hard work. We're in the Texas hill country and rock is more common that dirt. We hit solid about two feet down. It's the best we can do.

Sammy carries the box with Baby Kitty inside. We reach the grave and he tells me to turn around. I don't know what to do. I feel as if I should watch, but I know she is cold now. I turn around. He puts our Baby Kitty into the grave and places the blanket about her. It is horrible. We stand for a few minutes and try to think of things to say that will make us feel better. We've already said most of them, but they haven't sunk in yet. He starts to gently shovel dirt in around the edges. I take trips to gather rocks and make a cross. Finally the blanket isn't seen. He hands me the shovel and I cry as I help bury our sweet sweet Baby Kitty.

Day 2

Tonight we stand in the kitchen and hold each other and sniffle. I had forgotten I had set her photo as my cell phone background. He had one less cat bowl to fill for dinnertime. Everywhere we look we see her but she's not here.

Day 3

I know you're supposed to write something comforting to close this kind of story. But this is only day 3 for me and nothing comes to mind. I'll let you know if I think of an ending.

Day 5

It's getting a little better. A co-worker expressed their condolences and my sister sent us a card. My Mom suggested writing a list of all the happy and humorous memories. I went through our digital photos and made a folder just for her. I still think of her on and off throughout the day. I still cry sometimes. My understanding of her character has changed now that she is gone. Things I didn't think about, didn't attribute to her, didn't see. She was the sweetest of our cats. It will get better, but I miss her. I know Sammy does too.

Day 6

I've been waiting for the Caturday thread. Not originally. I'm a lurker. I like to write things out - it helps me clarify things. But I read it every Saturday and isn't this kind of what it is for? Sammy is in bed asleep and it is 2:23AM. I couldn't stand to wait. I don't know how this stuff works. It's hard to see again. I bought TF. I hope everyone is kind.



http://s772.photobucket.com/albums/yy8/puffwamcdooey/Baby%20Kitty/

Welcome. I am a longtime lurker too, I do not have cats now, but I have through the years.

I do not know if anyone else is up and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.

Everyone is very kind here and they will understand.

I got nothing else because there is something in my eye...

Puffwamcdooey: The prologue is either from the orange or black cat. I am not sure which. I left the computer unattended while writing and came back to this. They've never "written" before.
P[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[


This reminded me of the first cat we had that died. We named her Hillary (after Sir Edmund) because she like to climb and explore. For some reason, she got nicknamed "Babycakes". She was the runt of the litter, with a birth defect of missing skin that eventually healed over, but never grew fur (you'd never have known this, she was my longest haired kitty). Her mom died of kidney failure at 11. She came to us pregnant, and I assisted (kept her on the newspaper) with the birth. Mom was named Hester and called "Momcat".

She liked to go outside to "visit the neighbors" - mostly an elderly couple who lived across the street. She didn't come home one night, which became a weekend. We searched, hoping that someone had taken her in from the snow, or that she had found a warm place to take cover. The neighbors had been visiting their daughter. When they got home, they found her curled up in the garden by their back door (behind the fence, or we would have found her). She was only 2-1/2 years old. We think she was hit by a car, then made it to the garden before she couldn't go on any more.

Hillary aka Babycakes

as a baby


all grown up

Hester the Momcat

snuff3r: It's RSPCA.

Don't confuse them... four letters is plenty

I made Peking duck the other day. Mr.Cat said it was very relevant to his interests.

It is the only thing he has ever wanted.

I usually post something from http://icanhascheezburger.com, but I saw this and couldn't resist *tailwags*

Pavlov's Cat

Puffwamcdooey: The prologue is either from the orange or black cat. I am not sure which. I left the computer unattended while writing and came back to this. They've never "written" before.
P[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[



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Link (new window)

Puffwamcdooey: The prologue is either from the orange or black.

This probably isn't good for kids to read.

Day 0

Our cats are getting older. I started to pr ...

severe snip.
my condolences to you.
i went through the exact thing with my O-ushi. even in a new apartment i still look for her. and now i can't see through the blur of tears. there should be a rule against stirring up dust around pregnant women....

oh, it feels so gooooood to sleep in a real bed again. we had to leave our old bed, frame and mattress and some other things behind due to fleas and bedbugs. we've had to sleep on a thin futon mattress on the wood floor. not so great when you've got a bump sticking out of you and you can't stand unassisted. we finally had enough money this week to buy a new, and a queen-sized one to boot, bed and sheets. as i worked til midnight it was hubby's job to wash the new sheets before he put them on the bed. i think if he had his way he would have just put them on the bed without telling me. so in order to finish the sheets he has to put the clean dry clothes from the dryer someplace else. he chose to put them right back into the basket of not washed clothes. wtf? i get home at 1230 and want to cry because i can't tell what's clean or dirty.
but at least we have a bed that has room for both of us to have a few more inches of space. now we just have to break it in....

yobbery: Moar fresh Biscuit
[i211.photobucket.com image 600x420]

The Little Biscuit Face^TM has beautiful eyes. You can almost see the wheels rusted frozen behind them ;-)

i just opened my email a minute ago and i am greeted by a message from the canadian humane society that proclaims in big cap letters HAPPY BIRTHDAY O-USHI!
i had signed up to get a free ID tag from them, which i never got by the way, and this is literally the first thing they have ever sent to me. so now i'm close to bawling one more time and i haven't even woken up all the way. thanks canada. i think i might dislike you just a wee bit more now.

predle: [farm8.staticflickr.com image 640x480]

Tortie! Here is my tortie, Cinder in the yard a couple of springs ago. It is warm for Feb. and this is Louisiana but I don't have that much blooming yet this year. I do have a Japanese Magnolia, some narcissi, and pansies, though.




and in the laundry basket...

Puffwamcdooey: The prologue is either from the orange or black cat. I am not sure which. I left the computer unattended while writing and came back to this. They've never "written" before.
P[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;p[;
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[



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This probably isn't good for kids to read.

Day 0

Our cats are getting older. I started to prepare myself. The needy and affectionate black kitty that has allergies and throws up too much. The orange one that came to us looking like he was an inch from death. Those were the ones that I thought would go first. Those were the ones I was preparing for. Black Cat would likely develop some other affliction that caused more damage to the carpet, and Orange Cat would probably add some new gross skin condition to his arsenal. I loved them. I was OK with that. It was expected. These were my first pets as a "grown up" and I was going to lovingly deal with whatever illnesses they developed and if the vet said it was time, I would be OK with that. I thought about it, knew it was going to happen, and mentally prepared myself. But I didn't prepare for this.

She was our baby kitty. She was only three and a half. She was healthy, happy, fit. Her purr meter was set to high. Her fur was soft. She was shy with strangers but the town crier at home. Her meow was a resounding "Moo!" and with her black and white coloring, she was quickly nicknamed the Cow Kitty. She corralled the old timers and somehow managed to sneak into their cuddle range time and time again (even though Mr Orange is a big curmudgeon and Black Kitty is a couch hog). She was a Good Cat. She was the only one we raised from a kitten.

Day 1

We wake up Monday morning and start to get ready for work. We washed towels last night and there are none in the bathroom, Sammy pledges he will get one from the dryer. A knock on the shower door. There is still sleep in my eyes. Something is wrong with one of the cats? My hair is wet and there are no towels. I fumble Sammy's bathrobe on.

Our Baby Kitty, our sweetest kitty, is dead. She did not hide in a dark corner as if she was sick. There is no blood. No sign of struggle. She is on her fuzzy blanket on the couch. Her eyes are open. I wish they weren't. She is not curled up into a ball like she would be normally. Sammy is crying. Baby Kitty is his favorite kitty. She comforted him as a kitten when he was very sick. He raised her.

We have to find something to put her in. I find a box, but it's not big enough. I'm crying too. It's hard to see. I pet her and her fur is still soft as ever. I find another box in a closet and wildly fling its contents on the floor. Thank god for the fuzzy blanket. I wrap it around her and slide her into the box. Her tail does not fit. I lose it for a second. Sammy does not see. I carry the box into the laundry room. It's heavy. We have to go to work. I leave her there. We will come back. It's still hard to see.

Sammy carries the pick-ax and I have the shovel. We walk a bit and find a place that has a nice view of the countryside. We can't see it from the house, but it is a few small steps from the back deck. We start to dig. It's hard work. We're in the Texas hill country and rock is more common that dirt. We hit solid about two feet down. It's the best we can do.

Sammy carries the box with Baby Kitty inside. We reach the grave and he tells me to turn around. I don't know what to do. I feel as if I should watch, but I know she is cold now. I turn around. He puts our Baby Kitty into the grave and places the blanket about her. It is horrible. We stand for a few minutes and try to think of things to say that will make us feel better. We've already said most of them, but they haven't sunk in yet. He starts to gently shovel dirt in around the edges. I take trips to gather rocks and make a cross. Finally the blanket isn't seen. He hands me the shovel and I cry as I help bury our sweet sweet Baby Kitty.

Day 2

Tonight we stand in the kitchen and hold each other and sniffle. I had forgotten I had set her photo as my cell phone background. He had one less cat bowl to fill for dinnertime. Everywhere we look we see her but she's not here.

Day 3

I know you're supposed to write something comforting to close this kind of story. But this is only day 3 for me and nothing comes to mind. I'll let you know if I think of an ending.

Day 5

It's getting a little better. A co-worker expressed their condolences and my sister sent us a card. My Mom suggested writing a list of all the happy and humorous memories. I went through our digital photos and made a folder just for her. I still think of her on and off throughout the day. I still cry sometimes. My understanding of her character has changed now that she is gone. Things I didn't think about, didn't attribute to her, didn't see. She was the sweetest of our cats. It will get better, but I miss her. I know Sammy does too.

Day 6

I've been waiting for the Caturday thread. Not originally. I'm a lurker. I like to write things out - it helps me clarify things. But I read it every Saturday and isn't this kind of what it is for? Sammy is in bed asleep and it is 2:23AM. I couldn't stand to wait. I don't know how this stuff works. It's hard to see again. I bought TF. I hope everyone is kind.



http://s772.photobucket.com/albums/yy8/puffwamcdooey/Baby%20Kitty/

My deepest condolences and many hugs. We are here for you, and most of us have dealt with a loss like this.

Happy Caturday! I don't have any good, recent snow-cat pictures, as any snow we've had has promptly disappeared. This past week it was in the 50s, unheard of for a Michigan January!

A close-up of Timon being handsome:



Mufasa's prints after exploring a dusting of snow we got last year:

John Buck 41: captain feedback: laulaja & armed...thanks you for the encouragement
8-)
here's a ball of mackerel in case your kittys want an evening snack

[img14.imageshack.us image 640x439]

Cool pic. Back around '75 or '76 I was snorkeling in the pond/lake where our camp is and sensed something to my left. I turned and saw a wall of white perch 4 feet x 8 feet, and the sunlight was hitting their scales so that it was almost blinding. I'll never forget it.

Were they Louisiana perches?

Puffwamcdooey: baby kitty

I am so sorry about Baby Kitty.

Felix was not happy with me. He has usurped the cat tree entirely but it's in the front room: so he usually sleeps on this window shelf when I'm in my computer/study/craft room. But Mia was searching for a nice, soft place to lay in the sun so lined an old veggie box and put it on the shelf for her. She loves it and is still sleeping there. Felix would also love it but she wont move and Mr Twice Her Size is afraid to try an make her!


(Sorry it's such a dark shot, still learning how the camera in my phone works.)

My brilliant friend created these awesome pictures of my kitties. Inspired by the "Space Cats" video that made the rounds this week

Hobbes as a solar flare.

I think Boudicca looks pretty good in space.

First time caturday post. This is my fur jerk; his name is Jackson.