Bear of a day

Bears everywhere.  I'm sure you've seen this one by now.  I just don't understand how this little guy got all the way in the store into the produce cooler before anyone noticed or stopped him.  Although, I guess if I saw a cute little bear gallop into my local grocery store, I would just follow it with a video camera and then post it on youtube.  Of course this is adorable, but one can't help but wonder where his mama bear is.  And then at the end of the video, they just take him out.  From what was reported, he was just left outside somewhere?  It's a baby bear!  You can't just kick it out to fend for itself!!!!


And then the guy in Ohio.  On to more serious disturbing news.  The guy with the exotic animal menagerie.  He had about 50 animals.  So, he only had licenses for like 4 bears.  He let all the animals out of their cages and then killed himself.  So, where was his wife?  Why didn't he just kill himself and leave someone to find the animals and rescue them?  Didn't he love them?  I guess he wanted to commit a murder suicide but couldn't kill the animals, so he left the local cops to kill them.  The pictures of all the dead animals laid out is so sad.  The guy had 18 bengal tigers.  All dead.  They could have been taken somewhere and taken proper care of.  What kind of person would do this?  And these cops.  I'm sure some of them will carry with them tremendous guilt for having to kill these beautiful creatures.


And then my poor Stinksy.  We put the pet carriers out so that the cats would get used to them.  The Fuzz doesn't like her carrier of course.  She has been known to go into Stinksy's for a bit, though, as seen here.

Stinksy, on the other hand, has been spending half the day in the thing.

I put a paw stocking with cat nip in there for him, but he wasn't really interested in it.  Anyway, even though he looks really cute in it, I'm a little worried.  Now that I know he has cardiomyopathy, everything he does out of the ordinary is going to worry me.  I mean, I put a soft Padres blanket down in there, and it's been cooler, so why wouldn't he want to hang out in there?  It's like his own little cave.  Cats are always trying to find enclosed spaces to nap in, so should I worry, right?

But it's like we feel like we don't want him to get too excited, like he's going to fall down dead.  I guess the vet didn't help any.  I went in to get his expensive pet food, so I talked to the regular vet when I was there.  She has a very stoical demeanor.  So it's kind of scary when someone like that is telling you that it could be degenerative and shorten his life............................ or some cats are known to live a full life with no complications.  Anyway, I am a real pessimist, but in this one case, I really want to try to take the optimistic route.

I mean, this fucking cat huddled in a hotel room behind our other cat while Katrina rattled around outside and shook the windows.  Talk about having a heart attack.  What the hell did these cats think was going on?  We brought them to a strange hotel room, and then in the middle of the night strangers banged on the door and took us away.  Shortly after, the hotel gets throttled with a crazy storm.  And then we took the cats back home and left them there alone.  Well, we gave the key to strangers who filled huge bowls of food and water for them.  But they were not happy with us.

Then later on, I picked up a puppy on the side of a busy street.  We fostered him for about a week.  Needless to say, the cats didn't take too kindly to having him in their house.

Right around then, Stinksy got neutered by a butcher, who carved his stomach looking for his other testicle, which she didn't find.  Then she, or whoever stitched him up did a poor job, and he chewed them out.  So, a series of vet visits followed, accompanied by the dreaded cone, and daily antibiotics.

And then, the FP took the cats on a cross country trip in an overstuffed 2 door Toyota Echo.  While having to give him antibiotics and keep his cone on.

Poor guy.  That earlier experience makes me think his heart is stronger than it looks on an echocardiogram.  At least that's what I hope.  I also want to get my money's worth out of this little guy.  He's one pricey American Shorthair.

Office Visits

So, we took Stinksy to his cardiologist appointment on Friday.  I've never been to a cardiologist, but my cat has.  So, it was confirmed that he has cardiomyopathy on the low end of the scale.  Just a bit above what is termed as normal.  So what this means is that one wall of his heart is slightly thickened.  The cardiologist did also see some fibrous formations, but he didn't know what that meant.  Anyway, this means that he needs to be monitored.  So, more expensive visits to the vet in his future.  And if it is determined that it's thickening, then he may have to take medication daily or twice a day!  Yikes!  I can't imagine having to give the poor guy something twice a day.  Sure, we would get used to it, but he is really good at holding a pill in his mouth forever and then spitting it back up when you assume he had to have swallowed it by then.  So, hopefully that will not happen.

Tomorrow I have a doctor visit of my own.  I decided to see if I can get tested for diabetes.  I've taken those online tests, and they end up with the suggestion that I should get checked by a physician right away!  So, here I am after feeling these symptoms for who knows how long, going to get it checked out.  Although I don't know if they are going to take a blood test tomorrow.  So, I will have to call when I wake up tomorrow and ask.  Because if I have to fast and not have any coffee beforehand, I guess I should know this.  I'm sure it will be nothing though - another case of my hypochondria.  I'm always saying something is wrong with me, and the FP is saying yeah, you have hypochondria.

So, is it sick that if the test comes back with something wrong with me I will feel ..... validated?  Yes, it is isn't.  I always make the joke how one day I will be diagnosed with cancer and I'll rub it in his face.  Ha ha.

But really, I don't want cancer or diabetes.  But what if I'm told nothing is wrong with me?  What if I am told that it is normal to be thirsty all day long and drink at least a gallon of water a day, be hungry all the time, get the shakes and feel faint if I haven't eaten 4 hours after my last meal, get dizzy randomly when I might just be sitting at the computer, get tingly arms when I jog, and almost gag every time I brush my teeth?  WHAT IF IT'S ALL IN MY HEAD? What if this blog is also all in my head and none of the events that I write about never happened?  What if I'm a crazy person in an insane asylum that thinks I'm writing a blog, but the reality is that I'm just carving gibberish on my arm, or even worse, writing gibberish on the walls with my blood and feces?

Speaking of feces, my cat shat on the bed the other night.  While I was laying on the bed.  Okay, she didn't shit on the bed, but she like had a soft lump of shit on the back of her long ass fur, and when she got on the bed she either licked it off or it just rubbed off onto the bed.  So, I moved on the bed, and then I felt something soft on my leg.  So I reached down to feel around, and then I brought my hand up to my face to look at it, and there was a piece of poop staring back at me from my finger.  It was like the size of a quarter.  Poop on my finger.  Cat poop.  There was now just a little brown smear on my leg, because it was all on my finger.  So I wiped the poop off my finger and I scrubbed my finger.  I scrubbed my leg.  Then I scrubbed my finger.  Leg, then long scrub of my whole hand, like an OCD scrub.  I was glad I had that bar of soap from a hotel that had sea salt in it.  The salt really helped buff the poop off.

So then I had to take the sheet and blanket off the bed.  And then I had to wipe The Fuzz's butt off as much as she would let me, because while there was no visible poop on it, her butt stank of shit.  So, then I tried to climb into bed again and relax and read my book.  I was hoping she wouldn't come up on the bed again.  Luckily, I think the butt cleaning pissed her off, so she didn't get back on the bed until I was asleep.  Which was fine.