Thursday, May 28, 2009

sticky kitty

In the Lessons I've Learned from Munchy file.

Liquid cat laxative, Lactulose, doesn't always go down the hatch properly. Sometimes, even when you think it's all in, it can bubble up out mouth corners and and drip onto fur.

Lactulose makes for sticky fur if not thoroughly washed off immediately. Munchy has a few pointy spots here and there on her fur. Petting her comes with an occasional fun and pokey discovery now.

And now for something completely different, Munchy action shots:

Yup, she's nutty.

Monday, May 4, 2009

One Year

One year ago, on May 4th, our Weasel passed away. Weasel was one of a kind. Since she didn't have a memorial or couldn't have an obituary, I thought I'd write a few words about her here. So that her legacy lives someplace outside of the hearts of her people, who miss her still.

Sean rescued Weasel and her sister Munchy from a house filled with noisy children and dogs and lots of other cats in August of 1992. She was a 4 month old, bossy runt of a grey striped kitten. Anytime we moved, and we moved every year, she ran around the new digs, yelling and owning the place immediately while her sister would find any closet to hide in.

As a kitten, we would take Wease into the yard and toss roses from the rose bushes or dandelions into the yard for her. She would chase them and bring them back in her mouth. She must have missed that game, for a few years after we decided to keep her indoors, she would pull socks out of the sock drawer and walk around the house yowling. We called her the sock killer. And we could never keep flowers in the house. Weasel loved to eat roses, and then throw them back up.

During the first 6 months I was in California, before Sean moved out and I was all alone in the heart of a pre-gentrified Hollywood, Weasel was my comfort. She slept next to me on the tiny futon on the floor and loved me in my loneliness.

As she aged she developed some odd habits; she loved being held and nursing on the shoulder of a terry-cloth robe. At some point she decided it would be awesome to stick her nose into my ear and start licking. It wasn't a constant occurrence, but when it happened, she purred with kitty glee and we cringed and laughed at the tickling.

Weasel was the cat who would always come out and say Hi to guests. She always wanted to meet people and be in the middle of the conversation. When she passed, several people who knew her agreed she was the best, most sociable cat they had known.

She was sick for a while, losing weight for a good 6 months with no diagnosis as to what the problem was from the vet. Then, one night she just suddenly jumped off my chest and ran out of the room. I knew then that something was seriously wrong. She stopped eating, she threw up 5-6 times a day. I took her to the vet for fluids and diagnosis, but he was cold "how long do you want to experiment". I didn't want to experiment, I just wanted Weasel to be ok. I called the House Call vet to come see her as soon as he could, Sunday May 4th 2008.

Friday and Saturday we gave her IV fluids but on Saturday afternoon she was obviously gravely sick. She even turned her head when offered bits of turkey. She hadn't eaten anything of substance since Monday morning. She even threw up water immediately and continued throwing up over and over again.

Sunday morning, she laid next to me in her usual position, tucked between my arm and my body with her front legs extended, kneading my bicep. She yelled at me and jumped onto the counter to drink water. I petted her boney back and her sweet head and she loved me back. When the vet came, he explained that she was very, very sick and after much description and discussion gently helped us come to the conclusion that she was in a downward spiral with more and more days like Saturday ahead of her. He helped us in our decision to help her out of her pain.

At 4:45 he gave our Weasel a sedative. I rocked her in my arms. I kissed her head and told her that I loved her. I thanked her for taking care of me for 16 loving years. She slowly licked her lips a few times and then she stopped. Then the vet gave her an injection that took the spirit of Weasel out of that tiny grey body, leaving only the shell.

No sad music played on a soundtrack for Weasel. There wasn't a list of her accomplishments in the paper. I told people about her, but she there was so much to her, I'll never remember everything. But some of it is here, so she won't be lost forever. I won't forget all the good.

She was the best cat, friendly to strangers, ornery and funny and extremely loving. I love you The Cheese. I still miss you. You are irreplaceable.

Hustling for my Blog


The truth has finally come out. I was indeed a model for Hustler.

Hustler Clothing that is, and the pictures were never published. Check out the whole story on my FaN Blog.

BTW, my eyes are up here.

(naturally sexy)