Saturday, January 31, 2009



It's Piggy.

Today at the vet we found out I have lost a 1/2 pound in one week. Normally, this would be a good thing - well, my mom and the vet would think it was a good thing if I lost some weight as they think I'm a fattie. Oh, Grover just said to tell you he thinks I'm a fattie, too.

Anyway, so normally everyone would be pleased about this weight loss but no one is. No one is pleased, either, that my lymph nodes are all gigantor and that the ones behind my legs which were fine a week ago are not fine now. Harrumph.

All this means that after midnight on Sunday I am not allowed to eat anything! Yup. Mom will drop me off at the vet for an ultrasound test on Monday at 8am and I have no idea how I will stand not eating for all those hours! That's a whole 8 hours with no food! I will starve! My stomach will growl and so will I! How could anyone survive without food for 8 whole hours?

Oh my gosh, it will be longer than 8 hours! It's just 8 hours from when my mom takes away my food bowl to when we arrive at the vet. How long will I be without food altogether? 9 hours? 10? Twenty?

That vet better give me some chow the moment he's done with that test. He just better.

Double harrumph.



Friday, January 30, 2009

Am I Sick?


It's Piggy.

Listen, my mom had a consult today with my vet and the Cornell Veterinary School's diagnostic department about me and they are thinking I may have GI Lymphoma.

See, I'm not sick though. I feel totally fine! I eat, I sleep, I beat up Grover, I play with my toys, I try to beat up Grover again, I sleep, I eat, I purr, I eat. Rinse, repeat.

We also found out they are quite certain it was not a seizure I had in December afterall, but only a vagal episode. Whew. The 'seizure' is the reason mom took me to the vet in the first place and we surprisingly found out my blood tests were very wonky. Then I had to take antibiotics for 2 weeks (I love my Pill Pockets!), but my follow-up blood tests are even more wonky than the first and are indicating that whatever is wrong with me is escalating at a rapid pace.

My mom is confused on what to do as one vet wanted to open my belly up and do biopsies right away but the other vet wants to take a less-invasive route and do an ultrasound on Monday on the slim chance this is all something else and they won't have to open me up after all. But the thing is, the only way to know if what I have is cancer is to open me up. So mom is wondering why bother with the ultrasound if they are STILL going to have to open me up?

I do not know how they will open me up, as I have checked myself all over (Grover helped) and we cannot find a zipper or anything else that would allow ease of opening me.

Anyway, mom is going to the vet with me tomorrow morning to discuss all of this and so he can feel my lymphnodes again to see if they are still big. I do not like the vet after last Saturday because he went up my butt and took poop out and I was not at all pleased to have been violated like that. And it hurt when they took blood last weekend, too, and I screamed so loud my mom almost grabbed me off the table and ran back home with me. But we do love our vet (well, I don't!) so we stayed and let him do what he had to do. Harrumph.

Anyway, so that's what's going on here. If anyone has any advice, please email us. And can someone tell me where my zipper is?

Thank you!


Piggy (and Grover, and our mom)

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

What Would Make Me Very Happy


This is Grover and I just want you to know that if my mom wore one of those baby slings and carried me around in it all day, I would really love it and be very happy.




P.S. My father said that if my mom wore one of those baby slings and carried me around in it all day, he would call a therapist.

P.P.S. Harrumph.

Monday, January 19, 2009

What's For Dinner? Not Me, I Hope!


It's Piggy.

Listen, the truth is, I did not have a seizure because I cooked my brain by getting as close as possible to the radiator for as long as possible.

It's just not true, but Grover is trying to convince me there is a potato and mushroom gratin inside my head and it is just about ready to eat.




P.S. Really, I can't have cooked my own brain into potatoes and mushrooms, right?

P.P.S. Now I'm worried.

P.P.P.S. GROVER!!!!!!

Friday, January 16, 2009

Why I Get Up In The Night


It's Piggy.

Today I want to tell you why I get up in the middle of the night so much.

I sleep under the covers pressed against my mom as tight as I can get and then I extend one paw to rest onto whichever body part of hers I'm laying against. It's very snug and warm and I like it a lot and I feel it is my mom's duty to allow me to sleep the way I feel most comfortable.

Periodically I get up and get a drink of water and then police the apartment checking for intruders like mice (haven't seen one here yet), or spiders (haven't seen one here yet), or Q-tips (lots of those!). I also do all the things I'm not allowed to do when my mom is watching - chew on wires, play tap-it with curtain pulls, lick the tiles in the bathroom, knock things off tables and counters. It's fun.

So, it's a combination of reasons that I get up so much and in the process wake up my mom and wake up Grover, too, who thinks he's so precious the way he sleeps next to mom's head with either his head on her pillow (his best imitation of a human) or all curled in a circle on his own pillow (can you believe the creepy little thing has his own pillow?!).

And every time I get back into bed, I get up on my father's side (and it takes me about 3 jumps to get up, thereby giving my father enough warning that I may possibly be landing all 21 pounds of myself on his face) and then, if my aim is good, I jump across his head and land on Grover and then Grover hisses and sometimes jumps crazily off the bed and then my mother lifts up her side of the covers and says, "Come on, Pig. Get under," and I do, even though some times she has the nerve to say it in a stern voice.

And then I wiggle myself into perfect position, reach my paw across my mom and express my bliss by purring for twenty minutes, causing my father to say to my mom, "OK, you complain about my snoring but Piggy's louder than I am and he sounds like a lawn mower and you think it's cute!"

I would have to agree. I am incredibly cute.

And loud.



P.S. Grover said to tell you that he has heard my mom say that even though she loves me, I can be very annoying at night. He's such a liar.

P.P.S. Grover said to tell you that he is not a liar.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

We Are So Saddened

Me, looking particularly handsome.


It's Grover, the cuter, smarter and more charismatic cat in the house (and the boss of all cats in the house, which means I am the boss of Piggy).

Piggy and I were catching up a wee bit on all our long lost cat blogging friends and we (and our mom) were so saddened to read how many of our friends have crossed The Rainbow Bridge.

We are so very sorry for the loss of all the amazingly beautiful, funny, sweet, loving and character-ful friends.


One thing we can say is that we are certain our own cats who have passed on, Spooky, Jade and Cheshire Cat, were all waiting at the gate and very excited for new playmates. Just watch out for Cheshire Cat! He could be really mean and that is why I called him Grumpus. But sometimes he let me snuggle up to him and that is what I focus on - the good stuff.

I never met Spooky or Jade, but I know that Jade's unfortunate passing (the vet prescribed him Valium - he had a heart murmur and mom was moving and the vet wanted him to remain mom gave Jade the Valium and not very long thereafter he died a very unpleasant death. Mom will never forgive herself for following vet's orders, which is why she is so wary of vets now - even though she loves our new vet.) had a silver lining. I never would be here living with my mom if Jade wouldn't have been called to the new stage of his being.

And so, today, along with much love to all of you and your families and all of your dear departed, I want to thank Jade for allowing me to live with my mom. And I guess I'll thank him for allowing me to live with Piggy, too, even though Piggy wasn't here then and even though I fully blame my mother for bringing that bald, fat, potato-and-mushroom smelling creature into our home.

With our deepest love and sympathy, and with joy in my heart because I just know that all our departed babies are up there romping about with no pain and no worries anymore. They are watching us, too. And purring at the memories and knowing someday we'll all be living in the same place.




P.S. Shhhh...I really do love Piggy. Just don't tell him.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Happy New Year!

Mea culpa.

We don't know what that means, but we think it has something to do with our mom being a stinker and choosing all her other activities over updating our blog. Double harrumph.

I, Pig, had a seizure a month ago and my mom thought I was dead. Long story short, we don't yet know what is wrong with me (they think it's something intestinal/colon-related but it could just be some random weirdness - my white blood cell count is through the roof). I've yet to have another seizure and, let me tell you, my mom is thrilled about that, because she said the first one nearly killed her.

The vet told her it did not bother me at all. I, apparently, didn't even know it was happening. He told her that I can't swallow my tongue during a seizure either. The only part I recall is getting up after, walking slowly to the litter box, having diarrhea (which has not stopped, by the way) and then sitting for a while before devouring an entire bowl of food as if I'd been passed out as long as Rip Van Winkle and missed all those meals.

So, that was exciting.

Just as a point of information, if you ever have a seizure, your mom is going to love the hell out of you even more than she already did, if that is possible.

Let's just say I get away with a lot of crap I would not have gotten away with before I pulled my little stunt. Had I know this was the case, I'd have had a seizure a long time ago!

Grover wants to have a seizure now, too. He's such a copy-cat.



P.S. Grover said to say he wrote this, too, but all he did was try to squirm away as I've been sitting on his stomach the whole time I typed this. He is still squirming so I'm going to let him up before I get in trouble, because I don't think even a seizure would save me from getting into trouble for this one!