Saturday, December 26, 2009
I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, whichever you celebrate!
I am so thankful for you and your understanding. I get such joy from reading your blogs - we're all a bit nutty, I think, us 'cat people', and it's awesome to have such a great group to be nutty with! It's an amazing community out there, and I feel so lucky to know you and to be able to share in the love and happiness all of our pets give us. Thank you!
Sending love and warm thoughts from frosty NYC!
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Grover snuggling Piggy? Really? Really?
Last night, I was on the couch and Piggy was tucked under my arm, purring like a Mac truck and Grover jumped on the couch, squished his way under the same arm and started purring like the delicate Mac truck that he is. Wish I had a picture of that, but didn't want to disturb the Lurve-Fest.
Never in seven years of Piggy's life have I had both cats touching one another while pressed against me at the same time. And the sleeping together and constant snuggling, licking, chasing one another around playfully, eating next to one another, etc. never happened between these two, before.
I don't know what to make of it, other than Vito must have spread some magic dust around before he moved onto his next adventure.
Thank you, my baby bobcat. I miss the hell out of you.
P.S. If the snuggling between these two wasn't enough, watch this. Huh? Grover cleaning Piggy? Really? Really?
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
I've had two cats (Jade and Cheshire Cat) cremated in the past and both were returned to me in plastic bags stuck inside what appeared to be cheap candle tins from the 99 cent store.
I have a confession - when my cat Jade died 12 years ago (an icky tale - his vet asked me to give him a Valium before I moved from one city to another because Jade had a little heart murmur and the vet didn't want him to be stressed out. I gave it to him. It killed him. End of story.) I was (still am) so traumatized by his death that when his ashes came back I opened the little bag of what appeared to be crushed sea shells and I stuck my fingers into it.
Does this make me a total freak; or is someone else going to confess to the same sort of mourning behavior; because I'd rather not believe I'm the only one with this particular brand of crazy.
But with Vito, nope, no access to ashes, no sticking my fingers into the bag. There are screws on the bottom of the box, so I could get to the ashes if I wanted to, say, sprinkle them somewhere or bury them, or star in my very own re-enactment of that scene from Meet The Fockers.
So, I get home with this Box O' Vito and try to decide where to put him. I let Grover and Piggy sniff the box but they were way too interested in it, which was sweet but inviting trouble, so I knew I had to put the box somewhere they never go, or it was going to get broken. And then I knew where to put it...way up on top of the armoire where Vito liked to ensure I could not turn on the ceiling fan.
(Yet again another crappy cell phone pic...I wish I'd taken more 'real' photos of Vito, but I had no idea I'd have so little time with him.)
When I got into bed last night (I put the plaster paw prints on the table near my bed), I kept thinking of those ashes up there on the armoire. I really, really, really wanted to go get them and take them to bed with me. I kept thinking about it and thinking about it, and then thinking some more about how this might look should I die in the night and was found cradling a box of ashes in my bed. But I still kept thinking about it - hell, my real friends would love me anyway if I were found that way, right?
Then, I realized if I were to do such a thing as get those ashes and cuddle them all night, it would be a slippery slope, and the next thing I might end up doing was putting on my wedding dress and sitting on the couch crying and eating a pint of Ben & Jerry's Pisctachio Pistachio ice cream while watching the Say Yes To The Dress marathon. And that would be really sad.
So I left his ashes where they were. For now...
Monday, December 7, 2009
Thank you so beyond words for your comments, emails, wisdom, love, prayers, understanding, etc., etc., etc. This community has awed me. Thank you seems like such an insignificant thing to say right now, but thank you.
I am slowly getting back to everyone, and it means so much to me to be able to do so, but it's taking me a while...thank you for your patience!
Today I picked up Vito's ashes and was given his pawprints. I had not known about it and was so shocked and surprised to see it. It made me laugh because my little bobcat was so small but had the most giant paws of any cat I've ever known. We'd joke that he'd been given the wrong feet! And it made me cry because my little bobcat didn't even get a chance to grow into those crazy-big paws.
I hesitate to say this as there isn't a 'nice' way to say it, but if ever you require, um, 'services' of the nature I required on the 27th, and you live in NYC, may I suggest http://www.nyc-vs.com/. The entire staff from the moment we walked in the door until the moment we left were amazing to us. The experience was non-clinical and as near to being beautiful as such a sad and tragic event could be. I had already mailed the vet a thank you card, but then today when I picked up Vito's ashes and yet again was confronted with understanding and affection from their staff, as well as receiving the above in a little cloth bag imprinted with cartoon cats, well, I feel like I need to send ANOTHER thank you card...that's how good these people were to us.
And that is how all of you made me feel, too - like I need to send each of you two thank you cards and let you know how much I appreciate you.
Thank you. Thank you.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving. I am grateful for all of you - your comments and emails and words of wisdom and support and love and prayers.
Me and my Three Musketeers have so much to be thankful for. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Vito has been diagnosed with the dry form of FIP (or as close as one can be to definitively 'diagnosing' this awful disease).
I will need to put him down, but right now he’s OK – probably by next week he’ll need to go, all depends on when he lets me know – he will tell me when his ready…the vet thought we probably have about a week before he begins to feel badly...his skin is turning yellow and his kidneys are enlarged but vet is CERTAIN he is NOT suffering in any way, even with the eyes - which at this point I can hardly look into because they are so NOT his eyes - the Uveitis is horrible to look at - where once were green, pretty eyes are now golden/mud brown where there even is an iris, huge pupils, white dots and most of one pupil has already 'disappeared'. Pretty awful.
They gave me drops for his eyes, he’s still drinking water on his own and this a.m. he was walking around a lot more than he has since this started on the 14th (damn, he went downhill fast!). Went to his scratching post – sat with Grover and Piggy while they ate, sat with Piggy by the radiator, etc. Slept in my arms again last night.
They also gave me an appetite stimulant for him and about 10 different tasty kinds of foods to entice him to eat something, as he will not eat except for a lick of baby food or a lick of milk.
I know I did everything for him that could be done – no cure for the disease and no preventative. Death sentence, end of story. I'm glad we had 3 and a half months with him - he is (was?) so freaking fun and crazy and wise and snuggly and loving, such a gift to us - such a wonderful gift...and Piggy got the BFF he always wanted. Piggy's going to miss Brokeback Mountain...and I am too. Sidenote - the other day we were all on the couch ("all" being me, Grover, Piggy and Vito) and Vito and Piggy were doing Brokeback Mountain and I turned the TV station and BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN was on TV - I cracked up!
So, we have a little more time with our baby Bobcat and I am thankful for that, though honestly, it's terrible to see him like this...he was so full of life and sass and like a little Buddha until 10 days ago...the moment he seems to be suffering is the moment we...well, you know...
He's so different now (personality and appearance) that it sort of feels like someone kidnapped our little guy and replaced him with a similar looking cat, his personality is completely changed, he's lost 1.5 pounds since the 14th and is so bony...etc...still the cutest thing ever, but...
Just very, very, very sad. Words cannot express...
Not sure of the lesson in this - I always try to find the lesson - but in this case...I can't. It's just awful and so unfair to Vito. He's an old soul and maybe he stopped by as he was passing through to help us all through a difficult time. I was divorced on the 16th (the day before Vito went to hospital) and even though I was the one who initiated the divorce, it was a long, arduous process, so Vito really showed up at a great time when I needed a distraction...and Piggy really needed a BFF...and maybe that is the lesson - that sometimes you get something you really need, but you don't necessarily get to keep it.
Somehow that doesn't seem very comforting right now.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Vito spent the night sleeping in my arms - so cute!!! We had lots of little chats in the night and I have a sense of peace about him and what is happening to him - he is such an old soul...and I know he is aware and OK and not suffering despite everything - he is very wise...he will let me know what he wants to do about this...
This a.m. he shocked me by drinking a little water on his own...which thrilled me, first time in 9 days (4 of those days he was on IV fluids) he's chosen to have a beverage.
He used his scratching post for a moment, and even licked 2 licks of milk and one wee lick of tuna...it was SO good to see these positive changes...I felt very encouraged.
But he's developed uveitis from whatever 'disease' he's inflicted with and seems to be quickly losing his sight - his eyes have changed color from green to this muddy-ish brown, and half of one pupil is 'missing'...we'll know more today or tomorrow about whether he has FIP (well, as close as one can have to a diagnosis of that)...but the vet wants him back to the hospital ASAP to have the head of Opthamology see his eyes...because if he does NOT have FIP the eyes are going to be a very big concern...
I'm so thankful for last night with him and that he seemed 'better' this morning, despite how sick he seems to be...it reduces the horror of the past nine days to know he's still my little bobcat...and that he understands what is happening to him...even if I do not.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
It's not Grover. My mom is too tired to write as Grover. Oh wait, that was Grover.
Now it's not.
We took Vito home yesterday - there is nothing more the hospital can do for him...$2,750 later...
He will not eat or drink, though I'm forcing some water into him with an eye-dropper and he fights me all the way. He is alert sometimes, watching what goes on around here...I take him to the window to watch the birds, he likes that. Other times he just lays there and stares or naps. He's curled up like shrimp with his BFF now...
Like I said, he gets feisty when I try to give him water from a dropper...taking his temperature is impossible, he just seems to be rejecting any attempt to help him. He is still on antibiotics, antivirals and Metacam...but it's not looking good - he has not gotten any better at all since he first started getting ill on the 14th.
Last night, his eyes started to change to a weird brown color from the outer edges in - they are now a golden shade where once they were green - one of his pupils is now half 'missing' - another sign of FIP, so I've been told.
We are awaiting results of a few more blood tests tomorrow afternoon or Tuesday a.m. that may help make a definitive diagnosis of the dry form of FIP, but I'm kind of feeling that is what he's got and I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to let what was my crazy, fun, happy little bobcat linger like this. It's heartbreaking to watch this happen to my little 9 month old baby who was so healthy 9 days ago...I don't want him to suffer in any way...he doesn't seem to be in pain per se, but he feels like shit.
I know cats can recover from 'fever of unknown origin' and devastating viruses, but he spent four nights in hospital on mass doses of drugs, etc. and has not gotten ANY better at all...
So...will keep you posted. Thanks for your prayers and love. I appreciate it.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Vito's vet (NOT the hospital) said that in his experience, the kind of fever a cat with FIP gets is a steady one around 103, so he thinks it's a 'good' sign that Vito is staying steady at 105...so far as the FIP diagnosis is concerned, I mean...otherwise, not such a good thing to have a 105 fever, but maybe Vito's body is hot enough now to kill whatever virus/infection/etc. is raging in him.
Listen, thank you so very, very, very for your good wishes, prayers and all the info. Mom is so sorry she is so behind on email and promises to catch up soon!! We so appreciate you!
Late yesterday, Vito's fever dropped two points and we were very excited. He began eating and drinking again, though they still had him on IV fluids to be certain he stayed well-hydrated because he is on a cocktail of meds, including anti-inflammatories, antivirals and antibiotics. The hospital was unsure which drug may have brought the fever down, but they felt they were on the right track towards getting him well.
Then, at 2am his fever went back up to 105 and has remained steadily there. He is still eating some, still purring when they touch him and still on the IV fluids. As to diagnosis, they are leaning more towards FIP but still not able to be certain, as they hope he just has some bizarre virus that seems unresponsive to the cocktail of drugs.
They still will not let my mom see him and she is very frustrated. She considered showing up at the hospital anyway and demanding to see Vito...with me in tow. I'm tiny and stealth so she thought maybe I could Ninja my way in there and at least bring Vito a message and one of Piggy's sweaters so he could smell home. We still might do it. Piggy wants to come see his BFF (it's been very hard on him, he waits by the door for his BFF to come home), but he's so big and PINK and likes to gallump and I think he would just mess up my game.
To be continued...
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Listen, we are so thankful for your kind words and generous prayers and helpful/hopeful emails. You cats (and your peoples!) are amazing. Thank you! It really does feel like it's been one medical drama after the other - with Piggy getting so sick last December and then getting seemingly better a few months ago, and then getting wonky heart on September 15th...and now Vito.
My mom misses him so much and wanted to go visit today but the hospital won't let her. They have Vito in isolation as they feel he may be contagious. They will call later to discuss Metacam because they cannot get the fever down.
My mom made a HUGE mistake and googled Metacam and found this freaking nightmarish site, so now she's all "Um...", but so many of you have told us that you have NEVER personally heard of any cat dying from this drug, so we're going to stick with y'all instead of the bulk of the scary info available online for masochistic people like my mom who tend to torture themselves with worse case scenarios...
More info soon, we hope.
Again, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Even from mine.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Listen, Vito got wonky...wouldn't eat or drink, lethargic, hot, 3rd eye lid wouldn't go back where it belongs...and he's been at the animal hospital since last night.
So far, all we know is he is still on IV fluids (dehydrated), still has a fever of 105 (last night when we got to the hospital it was 105, then very early this a.m. it went down to 104.5 then went back up again a few hours later) and still has a very high globulin count and a very low red blood cell count. Also, last night while he was there his eyelids became rimmed in red, which could indicate he has some weird virus/upper respiratory infection (though he has not even one similar symptom to what I had - and I'm much better, by the way).
They thought they'd need to transfuse him last night but they did not have to. Whew!
Right now, they are thinking a few things but have no definitive information for us, which is frustrating.
He may have: a) some weird upper respiratory infection/virus/infection; B) Toxoplasmosis or c) FIP, but there is no real test for that...they told my mom it's something they wanted her to be aware of though...
They started him on antibiotics today, are going to send off some more bloodwork, including Toxoplasmosis (but the results of that one will take a week to get back) and do some urine tests. They are still trying to get the fever down.
If they cannot get it down by tomorrow, they want to discuss a dose of Medicam, but they said in this case it could cause renal failure so we won't talk about any of that unless/until it's the last resort.
So, needless to say, we're all really stressed out over here.
OK, let me be honest...my mom is distraught and numb, Piggy is devastated and lost, and I'm dancing around with a lampshade on my head chugging shots of Jägermeister.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Listen, here is a list of things that have been happening in my house:
1) The other day, Piggy licked the microplane my mom had used to grate sharp provolone and he made a tiny nick in his tongue. He's OK now, but can you say "IDIOT"? I wanted to, but I'm much too dignified to say such a thing aloud. I did repeat it numerous times in my head though.
2) I have been sleeping by Piggy more. Mostly, I'm doing it to upset Vito because if I am against Piggy, he cannot be and then he sits a bit away from us and gets this very forlorn look on his face (because he misses his BFF) and his left ear goes back like it does when he's upset...it amuses me. OK, now that I just told you that I feel like a bit of a jack-ass. OK, does it make it any better that I now let Vito come near me sometimes without swatting him hard with my paw? And, sometimes, I let him sit on the stove-top with me, mostly so that we both get yelled at to get off and squirted with Mr. Black (the squirt bottle), because why should I be the only one who suffers?
3) I have an upper respiratory infection. I think Piggy gave me Swine Flu.
4) I am enjoying licking this from my mom's finger. It's supposed to help with my infection, and it seems to be.
5) I have decided that even though my mom does horrible things to me, like not let me live in the cabinet anymore and yell at me when I poop outside the litter box, I am really the favorite. That's because I am the one who most often gets to sit on her lap when she is at the computer, like right now. Only the favorite cat would be able to do that. Also, I am the only one who gets to lick that stuff from her finger. Also, I am the only black, woolly cat in the household. Also, I am wee.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
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.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
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!
Monday, September 28, 2009
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.
Friday, September 25, 2009
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...
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
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?!
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)
Friday, September 18, 2009
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.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
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.
Monday, August 3, 2009
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!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
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.
P.S. When I figure out how to use that washcloth to make me fly, I so BETTER get my own video!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
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.
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
Thursday, April 2, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
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
A Few Good Cats
Cats of Wildcat Woods
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!
Zippy, Sadie and Speedy
The Fine Felines
Monday, March 23, 2009
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?
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.
Friday, March 20, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
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.
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?
Monday, March 16, 2009
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.
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.
That was rhetorical.
If a tree falls in the forest...yes, Pig would STILL stink.
P.P.S. I want to sit in my mom's lap, too. Harrumph. Luv, Grover
Saturday, March 14, 2009
It's Allison, Grover and Piggy's mom. Listen, I am so touched by the outpouring of love and generosity through your comments and emails and blog postings for Pig. Words cannot express how much it means to us to know that people (and kitties!) who have not yet met our boys in person can hold them in their hearts and prayers and help guide us through.
Thank you. Those words sound so insignificant. But I'll say them again. Thank you!!
We should have test results on Monday. Pig took quite a while to come out of anesthesia yesterday, but he did just fine and has some cool stitches to show for it. Stay tuned for Grover's post entitled: Frankenpiggy!
The incision was for the bone marrow extraction and also for the lymphnode biopsy. The endoscopy already showed one thing, which is that he has mass erosion in his digestive track all the way along. I'll be very happy to know what we are dealing with as this has been ongoing since December 23rd. And still, Piggy is acting completely normal. So strange...
Something funny: Pig's vet told me he had sedated Pig and Pig was laid out on the table when the Pathologist arrived. The Pathologist, having not expected to see a big, pink, bald cat laid out, stopped in his tracks, his face drained of color and he held onto the door frame to steady himself...because he thought that the big, pink, bald thing lying there was a BABY!
Hee hee. So, that had me laughing yesterday (and today, too!) :)
When we got home from the vet, Pig immediately ate a giant bowl of food, drank a big bowl of water, pooped, peed and began licking and scratching at his stitches (which were, according to his vet, in a place he can't reach...yeah, right).
He started to bleed a bit from the incision, so I wrapped the wound with this sticky gauze stuff, going around his chest and under his legs. He was not pleased, and as soon as I let him go, he began walking backwards and howling. Then he ran under the bed and proceeded to scratch the gauze off.
Then I put a band-aid over the incision. That worked for about 2 minutes and then he licked it off.
So I wrapped him, again, in the gauze, deciding he will just have to deal with it; but it was pitiful to watch him walk around backwards and howl so I took it off.
I called the vet, who was closing in 10 minutes, and they were very apologetic because they thought he wouldn't be able to lick or scratch there (why? why would they think that?!) and said they would, since they were closing in ten minutes, leave one of those "Elizabethan collars" at the pet store across the street from their office for me to come pick up.
I started to get dressed to go do that and realized I couldn't leave the house and leave Pig here alone as Pig was scratching the bejesus out of his stitches. As I stood there figuring out what to do, the vet tech called back and said that it would be better if I put a sweater on him instead of the collar.
I said, "Pig does not have any sweaters because he is a CAT AND CATS DON'T WEAR CLOTHES!" I know people DO dress their cats...especially Sphynxs and I always think it's cute when I see it...(Piggy's littermate, Rocky, has a wardrobe of clothes and costumes bigger than my own!) but I myself have never put a sweater on Pig and it didn't lessen the quality of either of our lives.
The vet tech told me that she thinks a sweater would work better than the collar because the collar is not going to come down far enough to cover the incision.
She suggested I not buy one in a pet store because they are stupidly expensive, especially since he won't be wearing it again (because his mom, me, is, apparently, a judgmental bitch), and she suggested I go to a baby store and buy a cheapie baby sweater, something he could wear for at least 2 days til the incision starts to heal a bit.
I tell her that there are no 'baby stores' near me and I'm home alone and I can't leave him to even come get the collar because he is trying to rip his stitches out RIGHT NOW and of course then I start to cry.
She says, "You're small...maybe one of your tee-shirts will work."
I tell her I will go try to find something and she said she will stay there until I call back to tell her everything is OK.
I start frantically ripping through my closet - even my smallest tee is (obviously!) too big for Pig.
Then my creative mind kicks in (as the hysterics do), and I start searching through my socks for the widest ones - I try to get one over his head and he freaks out and, in the process, gouges my ankle, so now I am bleeding, too.
I find another sock and cut holes in what I think are the approximate location of his front legs. I am able to pull this sock over his head, but I'd made the leg holes off-center, so now he's howling again.
I take that sock off him and go into the duffel bag that has all my circus clothes that I no longer have a reason to wear since I was injured in 2007 and can no longer do aerial acrobatics. I found this very tight pair of thigh-length, thick, red, stretchy leggings that I used to wear over my unitard to help protect myself from the burn of the tissu and trapeze in class.
I held it against Pig to figure out where the leg holes should be, and then I cut slots in the leggings, pulled one leg (from the foot hole) over his head, stuck his front paws through the slots (perfect placement this time, thank goodness!), folded the ribbing down on his neck like a turtleneck would be, and cut the 'shirt' off a few inches behind his front legs.
Well, he immediately calmed down and it is obvious he's a little traitor to my 'cats don't wear clothes' stance because he LOVES his sweater. He was all proud and started licking me and prancing around like some kind of diva. I swear I saw him glance in the mirror and admire his dapperness. Then he climbed on me and started purring loudly and went to sleep.
And he hasn't scratched at or licked the incision, or even paid any attention to it at all, since.
And now the little bugger has converted me into a person who PUTS CLOTHES ON HER CAT! So welcome me to the club, y'all.
Pig had a very odd poop this a.m. - a huge pile of barely digested food, but his vet said this is normal after having an endoscopy and it should resolve itself in a few days.
Pig, still in his fancy sweater, (I think he looks totally freaking hilarious in it, so I have to keep peeking at him) is sleeping under his blanket on the bed and is as happy, as the saying goes, a Pig in shit. I'll keep you posted when we have some news on Monday...
Thank you, again, from all of us. You are forever in our hearts. We appreciate you!
Allison, Grover and Piggy
Thursday, March 12, 2009
It's Piggy. Listen, shhhhhhhh....be very quiet. I have crawled into the bag of recyclables and no one can see me. I bet you even had trouble finding me in the picture, didn't you? I know! It's a great hiding spot!
I'm trying to avoid being found because at 8pm tonight my mom took my food bowl away and, if I remember correctly, the last time she did this was because I had to go to the vet the next day to have a test, so, I'm pretty sure that is what is happening tomorrow, and I'd really prefer avoiding THAT.
Another clue is that I heard her on the telephone discussing me and I heard her say things like "bone marrow aspiration", "endoscopy" and "lymphnode biopsy"; none of which sound like "Snacks!", "Q-Tips!" and "Bag Ties!" to me.
So, um, yeah; I'm staying right here, stealth-like in this bag.
P.S. Hi, it's Grover. Listen, I can see Piggy in that bag and unless you're a bit dim, you can, too. That being said, Pig's right....he is going to the vet tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock for more tests as he is still losing weight and his blood tests get more and more wonky every few weeks and the vets fear he is very sick, even though he acts very normal, like the big potato-and-mushroom-smelling bully that he is. We're all very anxious about this. As a matter of fact, I'm so anxious I am not even going to tell my mom where Piggy is hiding. She won't find him. Lately, she's so pre-occupied with thinking we're going to lose our little pink Pig, that calling her "a bit dim" is an understatement. Your secret is safe with me, Piggy. Your secret is safe with me. Luv, Grover
P.P.S. Thanks and hugs to Teri for reviewing Piggy's test results and offering much love, information and support!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
It's Grover. Listen, there are a few things wrong with this picture. First of all, Pig needs a bath. Second, I am not in the picture. Third, Pig's doing something weird with his mouth - is it open? Is it closed? Just what is he doing? Is he trying to say something? Is he going to talk about how PINK he is again? Is he starting to meow? Is he about to drawl, "Rhett, Rhett...Rhett, if you go, where shall I go? What shall I do?"
Pig, listen, you are not the star of some epic drama where you gaze forlornly into the distance and contemplate your navel. You don't even HAVE a navel.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
It's Grover. Listen. Can't a person take a sun bath without having a camera stuck in their face? Can't a person just try and RELAX a little, do a little grooming, dream a little daydream, purr a little tune, without having a big, stupid LENS all AIMED at them, trying to catch some unspecified special MOMENT, something CUTE or PRETTY, something to REMEMBER me by when I kick the bucket? Geez. Just get AWAY from me already, OK?
P.S. Damn, I am a handsome bastard.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
It's Grover. Listen, I know Piggy and I can be really snarky to one another sometimes and he gallumps on me and I bite his neck and all of that, but the truth is we DO love one another.
As proof, just look at Pig's feet.
The fact that I even still LOOK at him when he's got feet with little pointy weird appendages on them and (though you can't tell in this picture) big PADS on the bottom, like he's standing on round wads of ABC bubble gum (ABC = already-been-chewed); the fact that he has feet like THAT and I still even TALK about him, let alone TOUCH him should be proof positive of the power of love.
That's all I'm sayin'.
P.S. Hi. It's Piggy. Listen. I have cute feet. Ask my mom. Luv, Piggy
P.P.S. Hi. It's Grover. Further proof of what I just said, feet only a mother could love. Luv, Grover
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
It's Piggy. Listen, we don't know why there was blood on the floor last night. We do not know who it came from. We do not want our mom to keep searching us all over and poking and prodding and checking our butts and searching through our poops and such to find out where said blood came from. We don't know. OK? So stop it.
I have to admit I was the one who puked 3 times last night because my mom saw me do it. I wanted to eat it one of the times because my food wasn't even digested but my mom wiped it up too quickly. Harrumph.
P.S. Hi. It's Grover. Piggy is nasty. Luv, Grover
We are both so very excited and thankful to read that The Creek Cats gave us this award yesterday. Gosh, it's so hard to pick just a few blogs to pass this on to today - we love you ALL and don't want anyone to feel left out - so we're thinking we're going to have to start giving out awards all the time, too, to thank you all for the joy and laughs you give us! So for today we're going to pass this cute award on to The Meezers; Shana The Dash Mouth; Jeter Harris; Marley, Reggie and Me; Cliff & Olivia; and Kitty Limericks.
Monday, February 16, 2009
It's Grover. Listen, our mom is obsessively weighing us and it's very annoying. I mean, the vet told her to weigh Pig every day at the same time and keep track, but he didn't say to weigh ME and I find it very insulting to have to sit there in her arms while she comments on how much I weigh. Please. Spare me.
In other news, today I decided to put all our toys in one spot because Piggy had made a mess and they were strewn all over the house.
Speaking of Piggy, he's sleeping in the bedroom under his special blue blanket. Note to mom: excuse me, where is the Grover special blanket, may I ask. Yeah, exactly. He played with one of the catnip socks our mom makes for us and he licked it and licked it and it is disgusting and soggy now and, of course, he over-indulged so now he will sleep it off the rest of the afternoon.
This is good because that means he will stop bothering me the rest of the afternoon.
Now if only mom would lick the catnip sock, maybe she'd stop bothering me, too.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
It's Piggy. Listen, I know this falls under the heading "too much information" but I thought I would tell you guys anyway.
I had two normal poops.
My mom was very excited by this (how nasty is that?) and thinks the change of food is helping.
I still seem to be rapidly losing weight. Good thing I am very big boned and I do not look at all skinny. I have lost half of Grover's body weight - 3 pounds. Grover is such a show-off about how tiny and delicate he is, what a little cute thing and just so wee. Phooey. Mom doesn't help matters because she's always talking about it, too. Like, I've heard her on the phone discussing the fact that I weigh three times what Grover weighs.
P.S. Hi. It's Grover. Listen, I do not think Pig has lost any weight because when he gallumps on me he still nearly crushes me. I'm lucky I am wiry and can wiggle out from under him and do my vampire grip on his neck to subdue him. I have great powers of subdue-ism. And I leave bite marks, too. So there.
Monday, February 9, 2009
It's Grover. Listen, finally I feel I have been shown the type of deference that the stinky pinky (i.e. Piggy) has been shown of late.
My water glass (I do not like to drink from a bowl, so I have a water glass, thank you very much. I used to like to drink from the bathroom sink but my mom never lets me any more, because she's a bitch.) sits on top of the clothes washer and now my mom put my bowl of our usual food (which Pig can't eat anymore) right next to it, rather than having my water in one place and my food in another place like it was before.
So, now I take a few laps of water, then turn my head very gentlemanly-like and I eat a few bits of food, then turn my head again and drink some more water...it is a very civilized way to dine.
Unlike that Pig who thinks his food bits are wee hockey pucks and he takes them out of his bowl and bats them all around the apartment before he eats them. And, he's always sticking his face into his water and then snorting it out dramatically because it goes up his nose. He says this is because he doesn't have whiskers so it's hard for him to tell the level of water in his bowl.
I say he's just a slob.
Manners. That boy needs to read Letitia.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Listen, if you don't want anyone scratching holes in your hand-made gray hooded sweater, I suggest you not leave it hanging over the back of a dining room chair where it looks suspiciously like Something That Is Begging To Be Unraveled.
It's like how if you're on a surfboard out in the ocean and a shark bites you, you have to accept the shark was not trying to eat you; the attack wasn't personal to you at all...the shark was simply doing what nature taught him to do, and that is to try and eat what he thought was a seal.
Not the shark's fault that you looked like a seal, right?
And not the cat's fault that the sweater looked like Something That Is Begging To Be Unraveled.
P.S. Piggy did it.