Um, Boo?

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, Halloween is over, but it took me days to be brave enough to post this photo.

Apparently, in honor of Vito's heritage of being 1/3 Devon Rex, 1/3 Bobcat and 1/3 Siamese (we think) Piggy and Vito dressed up as Siamese Twins for Halloween. Or at least I think that is what was happening here.

I am still awaiting results of the police investigation.

I will keep you posted.

Luv,

Grover

Only Because I Was There FIRST!

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, I reeeeeeaaaaalllllyyyyy don't want to talk about it.

Love,

Grover

P.S. Oh, stop your gushing. I BARELY let him touch me. I think MAYBE just ONE of his weird, coarse wire-hairs MAYBE just BARELY GRAZED my soft woolly lamb fur. MAYBE.

If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, I don't want to talk about it.

Love,

Grover

Why I Got Yelled At...Again

EWWWW!

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, Vito did get the cabinet open for me, but mom got mad and put a baby-lock-thingie on it, so his efforts yielded no positive results.

I guess I won't be pooping in the cabinet anymore. And I am not going to be Vito's friend either. He is worthless to me.

I've taken to pooping under the armoire now. Twice, so far.

Even though I got yelled at, I think this new enjoyment of pooping outside of the litterbox is a natural reaction to having to witness the chronic sight you see above. Someone besides me must suffer for it. So, I figure my mom having to clean up a big, steamy pile of poop first thing in the morning is fitting, don't you?

Geez, you two. Get a room!

Harrumph.

Love,

Grover

Grover's Nature Show

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, today I will teach you all a few facts about baby Bobcats.

In the wild, baby Bobcats survive by eating pigs and pickles. In captivity, they become BFFs with Pig, but they still eat pickles.


Here is another fact about baby Bobcats.

In the wild they like to chew on sticks. In captivity, they chew on rawhide sticks (for dogs) and lollipop sticks (they steal the lollipops from the cabinet first).


And those are all the facts about baby Bobcats that I will share today.

Thank you.

Luv,

Grover

Home Sweet Home?

Don Vito Curlyone proudly displaying his prolific curly chest hair, disorganized whiskers and giant paws. (mobile phone photo)

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, I think I may have found a use for the moggy interloper seen above.

This morning, I was minding my own business (as I always do), sitting on the stove and staring down my mother as she made tea (I am still FURIOUS that she taped my cabinet shut) and she was all kissing up on me and mushing my head in a manipulative and failed attempted to reconcile.

I remained steadfast and did not purr, nor rub against her, though it was hard not to, but she is still on a time-out so far as I am concerned.

Anyway, so finally she leaves me alone and goes to do whatever it is she does when she's not being mean to me, and then, of course, Vito saunters into the kitchen and walks to the stove and stares up at me with his Bobcat eyes in a manipulative and failed attempt to be my friend.

But then...oh gosh, I still cannot believe this happened...the little bugger started to PULL THE TAPE OFF THE CABINET!

The noise brought my mom back to the kitchen and he got yelled at and sprayed with the water bottle but, judging by the look he gave me before he ran from her assault (can someone call the Humane Society, please?) he led me to believe that once she left the house to make money to buy our food and toys and litter and pay for Piggy's vet bills, he was going to get that tape off for good and I was going to be able to move back in!

I am SO excited!

To be continued...

Luv,

Grover

Lesson of the Day - The Cabinet Is Not A Litterbox

The reflection of my mom's light had me mesmerized!

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen. I was evicted from my new home inside the kitchen cabinet and I'm really angry about it.

See, it's like this, Vito kept trying to get inside. I was getting more and more mad, so I figured out a way to make him stop. I pooped in the cabinet. Now, don't get all judge-y judge-y on me here. You would have done the same thing.

But, in retrospect, it may not have been the best action to take.

See, once I pooped in there I realized it wasn't going to be much fun to LIVE in there, so I pulled some lids to the Tupperware onto the poop to try to cover it. That didn't work, so I went into the box of Ziploc bags and pulled some out and put those over the poop, too. And that is when my mom came into the kitchen to investigate all the noise.

She opened the cabinet door and bellowed, "GROVER! NO YOU DIDN'T!" But, um, yeah, I did.

And that is when I got REALLY yelled out and she began throwing things out of the cabinet like a crazy person....can you say OVER-REACTIVE!? Exactly. And then she must have sprayed half a bottle of bleach spray all over the freaking place. And she was so mad because she had to throw all these different things away.

Sigh.

And then, the worst part, after she threw all the stuff out and cleaned up the poop and left the whole apartment smelling like bleach spray, she taped the cabinet closed and I can't open the door anymore to get it.

To say I am insulted does not do justice to the rage within me. I am now not only on strike, but starting the legal process to disown her. And Piggy and Vito, too.

So there.

Harrumph.

Luv,

Grover

Make It Stop, Please...

I can't quit you.

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, we love you all and so appreciate the love and support and prayers and good wishes you are sending our way. THANK YOU!

That picture up there is, yet again, another example of the disgusting displays of affection I am being forced to tolerate because my brothers just don't know when to quit it!

I feel like today it's more OK for me to express my distaste for the two of them because Piggy is eating and acting normal, mostly, and then he gets wonky, and then he's totally normal again, and then he's not - so, see, now I can talk sass about him and stuff without feeling guilty.

We were a little taken aback when the vet called yesterday to tell us (very kindly) that there was no need to put Piggy through any more tests or procedures, because after so much done, they won't ever be able to tell us what exactly is going on with him...(and he cannot withstand anesthesia) so, we should let Piggy be Piggy - let him eat and play and love and knock over the little rocks in the bathroom and steal Vito's food and annoy the heck out of me...in other words, give him his meds, leave him be and what will happen will happen and that is that.

We know that death from arrhythmia would be quick and painless and would probably transpire in his sleep and there is comfort in that...sort of. And, anyway, we think he's going to outlive all of us...so there. We have received so many emails from you folks telling us of miracle stories with your own 'doomed' babies and we are taking comfort and faith in that. Thank you.

For now, he's our little (and getting littler) pink Pig and I'm glad he finally has a friend to snuggle, because lord knows for the past seven years of his life I'd only go near him every now and again and only when no one was looking. What? You think that's mean? I can't help it - he smells like potatoes and mushrooms! What, I'm supposed to hold my breath?!

Sheesh.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Thank you all so very, very much! Words cannot express. I am honored by your thoughts and prayers. OXO Allison (the mom of these 3)

All You Need Is Love

Ooo, you make me live...ooo, you're my best friend...

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, just because I licked Piggy's eye gook out of his eye and ate it doesn't mean I'm disgusting, OK?

I got into a fight with Vito last night because he keeps trying to come into my house and it's really getting on my nerves. He is tenacious! Anyway, we were on the table and I was smacking him in the head very hard and we somehow knocked over the Brita water pitcher and it fell to the floor and cracked open and all that water went everywhere. Mom was none too pleased. But I am the victor and will be again. A small causality will not deter me.

My mom can't have been too upset because right now I am sitting on her lap and periodically licking her as I type this. Piggy and Vito are, of course, asleep on the couch together, showing off their love. I think they should just get a room and leave the rest of us out of it, thank you very much. This mobile phone picture is from the other day, before Piggy got wonky so, see, it's not even because Piggy is wonky that Vito wants to be all gooshy with him. Sheesh.

This morning Piggy ate a little and seemed more alert, but then he got very tired and went back to sleep. I'm going to go back to sleep now, too.

Oh, there is one more thing I want to tell you. Hard boiled egg yolks. Delicious. That is all.

Luv,

Grover

Kitchen Cabinets, BFFs and Wonky Hearts

Vito doesn't like that his BFF is so sick. Vito's ear doesn't like it either...

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, in the short time frame since Vito invaded my space, he and Piggy have become BFFs and I hate them both. I am on strike. I've moved into one of the lower kitchen cabinets, amongst the bottles of oils and vinegars. I come out only to say a brief hello to my mom, eat, drink and poop, and then I retire back to my hovel.

I have some sad news to tell you...Piggy got wonky and had to go to the emergency hospital...long story short because I'm very sleepy, but we found out that Piggy's heart is deformed and blood flow keeps getting cut off from his brain. He also has severe arrhythmia.

His cardiologist, the wonderful man who literally wrote the book on feline and canine cardiology, is unsure how my little brother has lived this long with this heart (7 years) but it's most likely that his body had adapted (from birth) to the deformity...up until now. But my mom thinks maybe his body will just go back to liking his wonky heart.

More tests to come. We put him on beta blockers to help with symptoms, so we'll see if that gives him some relief. Prognosis uncertain as there is other ungood stuff going on - mainly the IBD seems to have progressed rapidly and may have turned 'malignant'. He's lost 2 pounds in a very short period of time.

My mom gave him a bath today to get the hospital stink off him...and now he smells like Johnson & Johnson Baby Wash instead of potatoes and mushrooms and something funky. Excuse me? A cat that smells like a baby? Bitch, please!

Piggy doesn't want to eat and he's is very sleepy. We're hoping that's just exhaustion from the ordeal, and the newness of the beta blockers and not some new state of being for him...we shall see.

Thanks for caring! I'm going back into my cabinet now.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Sigh.............

Introducing...

Hi:

Yup, it's Grover here, long time no see! Listen, we thank you so much for your emails. We so appreciate it! We will be back soon...promise!

In the meantime, we wanted to check in and let you know that yesterday we acquired a little brother and we named him Don Vito Curlyone...we picked that name because one, he survived a hit on his life as you will read below, two because he has a chest full of curly hair, and three because he has a rather commanding presence for one so young.

He's a Devon Rex, just like me (though I think he's rather a mutant Devon Rex), about 8 months old, and was found at the World Trade Center site doused in gasoline. Angela from the Devon Rescue contacted our mom because she has a Devon already, ME! At first, our mom did not want another cat because she feels 3 cats in a New York City apartment pushes her over the line into Crazy Cat Lady territory, but when she met him in person, she folded. What a wuss!

Piggy and I gave him a few stare downs and hisses but mostly we're like 'yeah, whatever' and he's the same, though I must admit (though I really don't want to!) that we kind of like the weird little thing and we think it's kind of cool to have him around. It keeps Piggy away from me a little, and I think when Piggy warms up to him for real it will give Piggy a playmate and I can just be a snuggle cat with my mom like I want to be without that potato-smelling beast trying to gallump me all day. Hooray!

Vito, as we're calling him for short, has paws bigger than his head and the meow of a Siamese, which had us all nonplussed at first, thinking he was hurt in some way when we heard what sounded like an evil baby in the living room, but it's just the way he talks. Mom is a bit apprehensive that he's going to grow as big as a Bobcat, which we think he looks like anyway, but we shall see!

So, we are proud to introduce him to y'all! More soon!

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Hi, it's Piggy. Listen, I'm doing very well health-wise and take my meds every day. I gained some weight and am pretty much back to my usual self. Thanks for all the prayers and good wishes - they helped!! I slept on my super special blanket on the couch last night, like I always do, and I let Vito sleep a few feet from me. I let him play with my crinkle ball, too, but I did not play with him because I am still checking him out and I don't want him to be all confident that I like him or anything. I'm the boss of him and he needs to know that. I did let him sniff my butt for a second though, before I hissed him away. He's kind of cute. Not as cute as me, of course, but I think I'll let him stay...I think... Luv, Piggy

RIP Siri, The Incredible Biting Dog

Hi:

It's Grover.

Our brother Siri was put to sleep on Monday after a two month illness. He's now buried up on the hill with his brothers Axel and Isaac.

Siri was very cute and also crazy as all get out. That's why me and Pig weren't allowed near him. He bites! He loved for our mom to give him belly rubs and he was very protective of her and would wait for her to leave a room before he left it. Siri's two favorite things in the universe were food or anything even remotely resembling food or even something that might obviously not be food but could be put into his mouth...and our dad. He LOVED our dad. Mom used to say that Siri thought dad was God and that's not far from the truth. They were best friends.

Siri's third favorite thing was biting people. He loved to bite people. We think his idea of heaven must be thinking about our dad, an endless supply of French fries and the ability to bite anyone he wants without getting into trouble.

Bite on, Siri, bite on.


Love,

Grover

When Pigs Fly?

Mobile Phone Upload - Grover wearing a washcloth for no apparent reason

Hi.

It's Grover.

Listen, thank you so much for all your emails and comments. We're still not going to be back to regular blogging for a while, but I thought I'd share this picture my mom took of me. She has no idea how this washcloth got on my back and I am remaining silent on the issue. Let's just say I am beginning to realize my power (ever hear of Super Grover?) and I intend to use it. So, consider yourself warned, Pig.

Our mom has been under-the-weather for nearly two months now, so of course it means WE don't get to blog because she's way too self-involved with things like getting enough sleep and coughing and scratching this rash; but, apparently she's not feeling too sick to have a visit from Shana's mom and turn Pig into a video star.

Harrumph.

Love,

Grover

P.S. When I figure out how to use that washcloth to make me fly, I so BETTER get my own video!

We Interupt This Silence...

A very sleepy Piggy - mobile phone photo. Dude, what is up with those paws?

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen. We're very sorry we have not written in so long and we thank you so much for your many emails and comments and concern, and patience in our responses. Here is a summary of our last month:

1) Our mom got bumped and bruised by a mini-van. This is what happens to a person who is distracted and instead of staying on the sidewalk, walks in the street along the driver's side of the parked cars. Let this be a lesson to you.

2) The day after the Mini-Van Incident, Piggy had a major freak out at the vet resulting in 8 stitches in my mom's hand. (Um, excuse me? Even after THAT, she's still in love with him? Really? Can you say, "Unhealthy Relationship?" Can you say, "Dude...what is up with that?" Exactly.)

3) OK, this one is still sketchy, but personally I think Piggy gave my mom Swine Flu even though the doctor said it's bronchitis. It's all just too coincidental. Mom gets ripped open by Pig. Mom gets stitches. Mom gets a flu. Mom gets bronchitis. Mom's eyes get all red and scary. Swine Flu breaks out. Coincidence? Only the Shadow knows.

4) Piggy's meds were reduced and a few days later he began puking and having diarrhea again...but now he is much better...especially once mom realized the little stinky thing had been sneaking into the closet, had ripped open a bag of our other kind of yummy food we used to eat before Pig ruined everything and got sick, and had eaten a very large quantity of the food. Once our mom removed the offending product, the vomiting and diarrhea stopped. Yeah, she's a smart one, that mom. Doh! This is what happens when one looks upon their child as an angel instead of a devil. Piggy is a devil. I don't care if he's Pink. Pink is just a lighter shade of red, and we all know the devil is red. And the devil's got a whippy tail. And Pig has a whippy tail. Just sayin'.

5) Piggy sleeps a LOT. A whole lot. And when he's not sleeping he is lolling about like a walrus on his super special blue plaid blanket, enticing someone to kiss his round, bald belly. He's disgusting.

6) OK, he's LESS disgusting than he used to be because the medicine has stopped all his skin from flaking away into piles of snow. He used to leave piles of himself everywhere and now, nope, not a flake. But he still smells.

7) We love you and we'll be back soon.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Piggy wants to tell you something: Hi. It's Piggy. Listen, I do not find it funny that people keep asking if I gave mom the Swine Flu. The answer is NO. Despite being Pink and Bald and having the name Pig, I am feline not porcine and even if I could give her Swine Flu, I would not because I know my mom loves me best and I would never want to make her sick. But I might give it to Grover. If I could. But I can't. So I won't. Luv, Piggy.

P.P.S. Hi. It's Grover. Listen. Harrumph. Luv, Grover

In Which Pig Finally Does What He Is Told

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen. I wanted to tell you that Piggy must be feeling better because he's being all nosy and stuff, like when our mom was cleaning out under the kitchen sink and he sneaked in there and tried to steal a Brillo pad. Um, Pig? Metal and soap? Not such a good idea, K? Thanks.

He also has started gallumping on me again, but his Powers of Gallump are weakened and the Reign of Grover is growing stronger.

Here is a picture of Piggy looking at birds on the fire escape. You can see he is developing a bit of waist in an attempt to be svelte like me. However, um, I feel I should make a confession.

Since I've been eating our delicious gloppy food every day, I seem to be developing a bit of a paunch. So today my mom only gave me a wee plop of the glop and I was not pleased, especially since Pig gets to eat a whole lot of it. He's supposed to eat a can a day but he is still eating less than half a can a day, supplemented with dry food, which he loves. What kind of cat loves dry food more than wet food? Further proof he is daft.

He has been sleeping a lot on his super-special blue plaid blanket, but not on mom's bed (where I like to sleep), which thrills me to no end. He is instead sleeping on the couch where he likes to loll about like a walrus, cultivating the scent of a potato-mushroom casserole and exposing his pink belly for our mom to kiss. Did you just throw up a little, because I did.

Also, to add insult to injury, when my mom brings Pig a little dish of wet food to his super-special blue plaid blanket, he'll eat it with gusto but when she leaves it in the kitchen for him, he turns his nose up and walks away. Can you say spoiled brat? Indeed.

Last night I had a talk with him about that and told him if he doesn't start eating his food in the kitchen like I have to do I am seriously going to kick his butt and I will withhold my snuggles even when no one is around to bear witness.

So this morning he DID eat his wet food in the kitchen. And when our mom leaves for work I will climb next to the weird, squishy thing and give him just a little love. But just a little.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Thank you for your comments! I will catch up very soon once my mom stays off the freaking computer for a change and gives me time to compose my thoughts!

P.P.S. Look what Teri found!!!!! Shhh...don't tell my mom but I borrowed, ahem, her credit card to buy this for Piggy as a Get Well present. I was going to buy him the XL size as a joke, but decided that would be a bit rude since he has lost 4 pounds. So I got him the Medium instead. Let no one say I am not kind and generous to Piggy. OK, well, let no one say I am not generous then.

Q & A With Grover V. Fuzzy (The V Stands For 'Very')

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, Well, it seems you would like to know more about me, Grover, King of The House. And, because you asked so nicely (fine, Teri asked so nicely!) and because my mom just realized we had been given two very lovely awards that she had yet to tell us about (harrumph!), if you keep reading you will find out more about who I am and what makes me tick.

Teri and the Furry Cats, and Elin gave us this great Honest Scrap Award!

And here are the rules:

“When accepting this auspicious award, you must write a post bragging about it, including the name of the misguided soul who thinks you deserve such acclaim, and link back to said person so everyone knows who he or she is.

Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including ones who have no idea who you are because you don’t have 7 friends.

Show the 7 random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with “Honest Weblog.” Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.

List at least ten honest things about yourself, as well as an Honest Photo...Then, pass it on! “

So, here are some Honest Things About Me and my photo above is quite honest, indeed:

1. My full name is "Grover V. Fuzzy, the 'V' Stands for Very". That is what it says on my papers. My mom is named Cunia and my dad is Little Mr. Gigolo.

2. I ripped my mom's right eyelid open when I was a kitten and she had to get four stitches in it, but I did not rip the nerve so her eye is OK. However; because she has a scar from me she said she will not be getting a tattoo for me, even though she has one for our cat Jade who died and even though she's currently planning on getting a Piggy tattoo. That's mean! I will guilt her into changing her mind.

3. When my mom brought Piggy home my whole personality changed - I used to be very happy-go-lucky and I loved everyone! She feels very badly about this and I am glad. She thought I needed a friend after Cheshire died and so she got Piggy to keep me company. Um, can you say, WRONG!?!

4. My mom had four surgeries in 5 years and after each one I guarded her injured parts for months and if anyone tried to go near her I would hiss at them and swat them. Everyone said I was a very good guard.

5. I snuggle Piggy when no one is looking.

6. The fur on the top of my head looks like Friar Tuck.

7. When I was a kitten, people thought I was a monkey.

8. Whenever my mom is in the shower we play a game of 'tap tap' through the shower curtain. I stand up and beat the shower curtain with both my paws and my mom laughs.

9. I will knock over ANYTHING that is on a table or counter and pull things out of drawers and unroll the toilet paper and tear things up if I am in a certain mood. I am in a certain mood a lot, especially lately.

10. I saved my mom from heart-break after Jade died.

11. I was a very, um, active kitten and broke nearly every breakable thing in the house and made my mom cry a lot...especially when I ripped her eyelid open. Frankly, I think I was paying her forward for bringing Piggy into my life when I was five years old. Payback's a bitch, eh? I know she thinks I'm so super cute because she always used to say to me, "Grover, you are so freaking lucky you are so freaking cute!"

We would like to know honest things about all our friends, and a lot of our friends have already posted their honest things, but here are 7 we don't think have done so yet:

Marley, Reggie and Me
Jeter Harris
A Few Good Cats
Artsy Catsy
Cats of Wildcat Woods
The Meezers
Meir Cats

And now you will learn even MORE about me, because not only am I totally freaking fantastic, the Cats of Wildcat Woods gave us this fantastic award!

I'm supposed to give you six things that make me happy. Ok, here goes.

1. My mom.
2. My mom carrying me.
3. When Piggy leaves me alone.
4. Any water that has touched my mom - I drink her bath water when she takes a bath, and every morning I get into the shower after my mom gets out and I drink the water at the bottom of the tub.
5. Sitting on the stove, particularly if a burner is lit.
6. Licking my mom's face when she sleeps.

And that is enough about me.

Because we think you are all so creative, we pass this award onto all our friends...and these, too!

Shana
Zippy, Sadie and Speedy
Mr. Hendrix
The Fine Felines
William
Poppy Q

Luv,

Grover

Peach Piggy

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, Pig is freaking me out. Seemingly overnight, he sprouted PEACH FUZZ! I think this means he is nearly done transforming into a Monster, but my mom thinks this mean he is finally getting nutrients again. She was way overly excited to see him with fuzz. Is there ANYTHING he does that she doesn't find cute? I think not.

This weekend, Pig attempted to clean his sweater by himself since our mom was otherwise engaged and still hadn't washed the nasty thing as of Saturday morning. I watched him do this for quite some time, all the while getting more and more disgusted. Finally, our mom noticed, got the hint, and took the schmata off of him.

In the time it took her to turn around to get the new sweater, Pig had done one of the dumbest things he has ever done, and that is saying he lot.

He must be tired of being Frankenpiggy, because when she turned back around to put the fresh sweater on him, less than 30 seconds later, his tooth was stuck in his top stitch and he was pulling on it and making oinking sounds.

Um, can you say MORON?

It was really stuck on there, but she managed to slip the stitch off his tooth. His incision was no worse for wear, as he is a great healer and it is all sealed up. But our mom thinks he is trying to give her heart attack and I agree, because that is what Monsters do! They try to scare you to D E A T H!

Anyway, she got the black sweater on him as you can see here.

And then he got to sit on bubble wrap, his favorite thing, because he is a spoiled brat. Notice how saggy his wrinkly skin is? My mom says that is because he's lost so much weight. But I say it's one more piece of proof that Pig is morphing into a disgusting flabbity Monster.

After Wednesday, when he gets his stitches out, his transition from Frankenpiggy will be complete. What's next? Pigzilla?

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Our mom says to tell you that Piggy ate a lot this weekend. He did lose a few more ounces, but the Prednisolone (and maybe the Sucralfate, too?) seems to have given him back his appetite and she is very thankful. He must be feeling better, because for the past few weeks I have been able to hiss at him and he would walk away in great fear. But yesterday I hissed at him and he just sat there and then he swatted at me so I hit him in the head and THEN he walked away. But he didn't look so fearful. I imagine it's just a matter of time until he starts gallumping on me again. Harrumph.

Plush Piggy

Plush Piggy, the year he grew the most fur ever.

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, I want you to know another creepy fact about Piggy. Sometimes, he grows FUR. I know. It's horrible and further proof of his Monster-ness.

Our mom was chatting with Marley and Reggie's mom about Sphynxs and she shared this picture of Piggy from a few years ago. Every winter he used to grow some fur, just a wee patch, but that particular year he grew a plethora of fur! It was so horrifying that I tried to lick it off him. I licked and licked in an effort to remove it and, because he is daft, he mistook my efforts as my trying to groom him. As if I were trying to be NICE or something. Bitch, please.

Anyway, when my mom was discussing Pig's symptoms with our vet a few days ago, she told him she had missed noticing a few symptoms; one of which is that this winter is the first time since he was born that Pig did not grow any fur at all. She realized this could have been a symptom when Teri shared that hair loss could be a sign of Inflammatory Bowel Disease, which Pig was just diagnosed with a severe case of. He doesn't have hair, so he didn't lose it, but he didn't grow it either and that was probably a sign.

Also, a few months ago, Pig began needing three to five tries to get up on the bed at night, where he used to gallump up in one try like he was in flight and often landed on me, scaring the bejesus out of me.

So, when he was no longer gallumping onto the bed at night, my mom began pretending she's a freaking cheerleader, forgetting that in school she did NOT make the cheerleading team and, instead, had to settle for being a TWIRLER - and I don't care if she did twirl batons, flags, rifles and fire. I don't care that she wore a short, flippy, trollopy skirt just like the cheerleaders, everyone knows that cheerleaders are better than twirlers. Anyway, so now she cheers Piggy to encourage him to get on the bed.

My feeling is that if he can't get on the bed, that is HIS problem. But no. She now does this annoying counting-his-tries thing and cheering-him-on thing. Like this:

Come on, Piggy! Come on, Piggy! One! Two! Come on, Piggy! You can do it! Three! Four! YAY! Five! You did it! Good, Piggy!

I just threw up in my mouth a little.

Anyway, so she attributed Piggy's sudden inability to join us in bed as Piggy being bottom-heavy (she is so PC, let's call a Pig a pig, shall we - he's FAT! Or was...), instead of realizing it was his muscles becoming less strong. He used to feel like a plump, hard football and now he feels like a deflated football. And they really DO make footballs from Pig skin, so let that serve as a warning to you, Mr. Piggy.

Anyway, I am only telling you this because sometimes "symptoms" of something amiss do not seem to be symptoms at all and instead are written off as 'nothing'. Most of the time, they probably ARE nothing, but sometimes they are not.

And that is what we learned this week.

Just sayin'.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Pig ate more baby food and more yogurt and did not puke! He won't eat more than a few bits of our regular dry cat food though...who cares, more for me!

P.P.S. Pig says to tell you that his sometimes-fur is luxurious, not scary. He also said to tell you he wishes our mom would wash his sweater.

Bag Piggy

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, I have no idea what the appeal is, but Piggy found his way into another plastic bag. Yes, he ripped open a tied bag of clothes that our mom had loaded up to donate to GoodWill. He just ripped it open as if that were an OK thing to do. As if that is what good cats do, just rip open bags at will and climb on in and hunker down as if the bag of clothes to donate was your own personal super-special hide-away. Like it was his honeymoon suite or something and next up is a bubble bath in some giant, gaudy champagne glass followed by an evening of cavorting and caterwauling with his betrothed. He's neutered. He really needs to get a grip.

Anyway, so we have good news here - Piggy ate something! And, even better, he didn't puke it up. The vet gave him a drug called Cerenia and it helped him feel less pukey so I didn't have to daintily step over piles of bile and partially digested food last night.

He is also going to start on another drug called Sucrolfate which should help all the erosions in his belly get coated so he can eat more and not feel sick.

That being said, I am exceedingly happy to report that Pig's illness finally, FINALLY, benefits me. Yup. My mom bought Earth's Best chicken baby food for Pig, but we BOTH got to eat some last night!! And I got to eat MORE than Piggy, which I think proves who's the favorite around here, despite all other glaring red neon signs that seemed to point to a certain stinky porcine-ish creature.

Oh my gosh, the stuff is SO good. I love it. As I am a bowl half-full sort of cat (Was that a snicker? Did you just snicker? Stop it!) I won't harp on the fact that I am certain this stuff existed for my entire life and only NOW am I being introduced to it. Instead, I will concentrate on the fact that this stuff is even better than Pepperidge Farm Goldfish and I am a very happy lamb indeed.

And now, a nap.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Pig is still in that freaking sweater. And, rumor has it that one of his fans is sending him something 'handsome' to wear. Oh someone, please make it stop.

P.P.S. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for thinking of us and helping things get better here at Grover's House with your love and prayers and good wishes.

P.P.S. Piggy just said to tell you it is NOT Grover's House, it is Piggy's House. But I think if one compares the amount of baby food I got to the amount Pig got, one could not disagree with me. Can I get an amen?

Frankenpiggy!

Smiley bandage over IV spot.

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, there is a reason I want nothing to do with Pig and it's not because I'm being mean, contrary to popular belief.

See, first of all, he came home from the vet on Friday smelling like poops. I know my mom washed his super-special blanket but she did not give PIG a bath and HE still smells like poop, in my humble opinion. I know she said he does not. But he does. My little black nose is far more sensitive than hers.

The truth is, he SCARES me. He is Frankenpiggy, see for yourself.

Three little stitches for one little Piggy.

My mom is trying to hide the fact he's now a Monster by putting him in a lame red turtleneck as if he were some kind of beatnik. What's next? A beret, Daddy O'? I am not fooled. He's a stinky cat. But not THAT kind of cat.

He is feeling particularly unwell (an understatement, sadly) since Saturday, so I will not be actively mean to him (of course!), but I also do not want him even LOOKING at me because he gives me the stink eye, literally, and then I hiss at him and then I get yelled at. Me. Little cute woolly Grover. Little dumpling-scented Grover. Yes. Me who doesn't stink. Me who has enough self-respect to know cats do NOT wear clothes. Me who sits on the edge of the tub when my mom takes a bath to make sure she's OK and to lick water off her knees. Me who sleeps next to my mom's head every night to keep Monsters at bay. Wee, good HEALTHY Grover. ME! And I get yelled at? AND she brings Monsters to bed now?

Bitch, please.

And she wonders why I hiss at that stinky pink thing? Sheesh.

We are still waiting for the results of Piggy's bone marrow test but so far we know that he has severe Inflammatory Bowel Disease, which I think is just a ploy so he can have Pill Pockets twice a day, which he usually loves. Tonight though, he puked them up ten minutes after taking his first dose of Prednisolone and scared the shit out of all of us. Mom waited a while and gave him another dose, but without Pill Pockets.

Still, I am not fooled, because he's never acted SICK ever (until they took too many bits of him on Friday - harrumph!), so I think he is in cahoots with the vet to empty mom's wallet and to get my mom to feel all badly for him and buy the Pill Pockets so he can have super-special treats to go along with his super-special pink skin and his super-special blue plaid blanket and his super-special freaking TURTLENECK, for gosh's sake.

Am I the ONLY sane one in this household? Am I?

That was rhetorical.

If a tree falls in the forest...yes, Pig would STILL stink.

Harrumph.

Luv,

Grover.

P.S. Shhhh...this post is for my mom and Piggy's benefit so they think I'm my usual snarky self because I do NOT want my mom or Piggy to know that it makes me very upset to see Piggy feeling so awful. I even snuggled him all day when no one was home to see me. And when my mom came home, I quickly jumped up and told her Piggy was being all drama and that he looked really super-dumb in his freaking TURTLENECK. What a drag, man.

P.P.S. Piggy is asleep, yes, STILL in his turtleneck (!) on my mom's lap. So far he has not puked up again since she gave him another dose of pills, and we are glad the first 10 mg of drugs are running through his system to help him get better.

P.P.S. I want to sit in my mom's lap, too. Harrumph. Luv, Grover