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Days of Our (Nine) Lives

MORE cat drama!

This time it’s Ollie, the older Burmese … he came home this morning with the right side
of his face horribly swollen and two puncture marks in his throat.

Oyoyoy!

Shame man, he can hardly see out of his right eye.

Stressed kitteh

My youngest Burmese, Rocky (aka the Noonoo) has, for the past couple of weeks, been totally over-grooming himself and tugging out his own fur.

Poor thing looks mangy! I was hoping it would clear up by itself but it didn’t, so I whisked him off to the vet this morning.

Mr Vetman confirmed what everyone had been telling me – mah kitteh is stressed 🙁

BUT … it could also just be heat stress (Rescue Remedy did nothing to help), and not real “psychological damage” (sheesh, MORE freakin’ drama to deal with?) and prescribed something to de-stress him. Um, it’s a cat contraceptive but apparently it does the trick! And who am *I* to argue?

So anyway, The Noonoo is now, as far as I’m concerned, as high as a kite! Kitteh hasn’t left my side all day and if he’s not meowing for my attention, he’s collapsed into a heap on the table next to me.

Awwwwe … poor little thing!

(um, no dirty jokes from you guys with your minds in the gutter heh)

Wounded and trapped

No … not me … for a change 🙂

This time, it’s mah kitteh!

Shame man, the older one, Ollie, got into a fight and came home last night with a hole in his head! So I rushed him off to the vet (luckily Sir G was here to give me a hand with him in the car). A quick 750 ronds later (ouch!), he was all shaved, cleaned and injected with antibiotics and I brought him home again.

He’s going to be fine but he’s not allowed to go outside until the wound closes up and startes healing properly, so I have to keep him in my room for now. Of course, that means zero air ‘coz I can’t open the windows and the only work around is to stick him in the cat cage when I need to open the window.

He’s not a happy Ollie Cat! And sjoe, this breaks my heart …

Humpty Dumpty and the poltergeist

We go through a lot of eggs in this house. My youngest son just loves to make himself eggs to eat in all shapes and forms – scrambled, fried, omelets, you name it – and sometimes I boil up a batch to make egg mayo or pop a couple into the boys’ school lunches.

But lately, we’ve started going through a lot more eggs than usual. A few weeks ago, I decided to be all Martha Stewart-like (Bwahaha!) and arrange the eggs that didn’t fit into the fridge into a bowl instead of just leaving them in their ugly carton on the kitchen counter.

Soon after that, I walked into the kitchen and found an egg splattered on the floor. Hmmm … strange. I thought the bowl must have been a bit too small and one of the eggs had just fallen out or something. So I cleaned the mess up and thought nothing more of it. Until a little while later, when I found another broken egg on the floor. And then the next day I found another, and another! I kept cleaning up broken eggs and couldn’t figure out what was going on. This happened for a few days and I was frankly a bit freaked out – thought I had a poltergeist or something. And then I realised – the cats! Little buggers.

I decided to do a stake out to find out which one it was and posted myself in a suitable position, ears pricked up for the jingling sound of their name tags, and waited for one of them to go into the kitchen again. The littlest one (the one that catches birds all the time) soon came trotting passed the doorway where I was hiding. I saw him jump up onto the counter where the bowl of eggs was and start pawing at them. I watched as he managed to work one out of the bowl and ever-so-gently pushed at it until it went rolling off the edge of the counter and hit the floor, spilling thick eggy goo everywhere. I thought he had just discovered a fun new game for himself but he immediately jumped down and started eating it. Urgh – can’t be good! So I looked over to where the cat food bowl is kept and noticed that it was empty. Was he hungry? Did he purposefully break the eggs because he wanted food? I filled their bowl up with food, made sure it was never empty and the egg splattering stopped for a few days. I also stopped using the bowl and just left the eggs in their original carton. There’s no way a cat could get an egg out of there, right? Then the other day, I noticed another broken egg on the floor and saw that the cat’s bowl was empty again!

Seriously, my cat is managing to remove the eggs from their carton (which is covered!), roll them onto the floor and eat them up when he gets hungry. How weird / disgusting / amazing is that? My other cat just meows at me when he wants food (actually, it’s the only time he’s ever vocal, which is pretty strange for a Burmese.) This little feline just makes another, way too freaky-smart plan! I don’t know whether to praise him or scold him! But now, whenever I see the remains of a broken egg on the floor, I know I have to fill their bowl up, clever eh?

I’m really not sure if it’s ok for him though. I’ve just had a Google hunt to see if I can find out but there are differing opinions on this. Some internet sites say its fine, that the albumen and protein in raw eggs is good for cats (and dogs) and that they won’t get sick because they have certain digestive enzymes that can handle all the bacteria in eggs. But other sites reckon it’s an absolute no-no. Anyone know what’s true? I guess I’ll just have to make this a non-issue by keeping a constant eye on their food bowl and/or trying to make space in my fridge for all the eggs.

And just so you know, I don’t REALLY want to be like Martha Stewart … Jail time is not on my agenda for starters. Plus I think she’s completely anal – for me, anything resembling a domestic chore gets completely ignored until it absolutely HAS to be done. And you have to admit, she is just too c-r-e-e-p-y for words!

I love my cats

But I hate it when they do this …

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I watched this with morbid interest from my (rather dirty) window just a few minutes ago – the little terror was having a ball playing with his fresh kill! Oh well, at least this poor pigeon didn’t land up inside the house like they normally do. No blood and feathers to clean up today, thank goodness.