When I got home from work Tuesday I walked into the cat’s room and saw puke everywhere. I noticed puke from wet food, which might have been Frankie’s, but there was also puke from dry food, which was probably from Chris. In addition there were several areas that looked like bile. One of the pukes had something red in it, like blood but with a purple tint to it.
I then looked into the litter boxes and noticed a good sized, unburried soft poop with the same purple red coloring in it. There was also a couple of spots of the purplish blood on the side of the litter box. I took pictures but it’s nothing you would want to see.
I cleaned up all the puke and scooped the poop and ended up changing the litter in the litter box with the blood on it.
I then went back into the living room and noticed several spots of blood that were redder this time. The last spot was next to where Chris was lying in the kitchen. There was also blood on his fur near his butt.
The vet was closed so I looked online and read that blood in the stool could be a minor issue as long as it was not accompanied by a list of other symptoms, one of which was vomiting.
Chris seemed alright at the time so I thought he would be okay until morning. I called the vet and left a message that I wanted to try to get Chris in early if I could.
The next morning he seemed fine. He was eating and drinking and I saw no blood anywhere. Nevertheless, I normally leave for work at 7:45 but waited until 8:00 and called the vet. They could not see us until 4:30, which was fine since I didn’t think Chris was in distress.
I left work early and brought Chris to his appointment. When I arrived we had to park pretty far away because the parking lot was fuller than I had ever seen it.
Inside there were two people with small dogs, one of which was interested in Chris.
They put us in an exam room and I opened Chris’s crate but he was not interested in coming out.
The vet tech came in and asked a few questions and then left. A little while later she came back with the vet. I tried getting Chris out of the crate by pulling the cushion he was laying on but when he got about a third of the way out he started howling, hissing, growling and crying while putting up an incredible amount of resistance.
I don’t know what he was holding on to but I could not pull him out. I tried to reach behind him to push his butt but that had no effect. After much struggle I was finally able to remove him but then he ran under the chair to hide.
I moved the chair and the vet tech picked him up and wrapped him in a towel but it didn’t work very well. He gave her and the vet quite a fight. I kept thinking, “Oh no, they’re going to dread seeing me the next time I bring Chris in.” They’ll probably label him as “Bad Cat Chris.”
To make matters worse, while the vet tech was holding him down and the vet was trying to examine him, Chris started peeing all over the exam table. I don’t know if she was pressing on his bladder or if he was just trying every trick in the book to get free.
The exam was over about 20 minutes after we got there but we had to wait another 40 minutes before we could leave. During that time Chris actually fell asleep in his crate.
When the vet did come back he said Chris has a bacterial infection and that he was going to give us antibiotics. I told him my concern with antibiotics and he said that is why he is also giving me a probiotic. He also gave me another bottle of ear medication because Chris’s left ear is still infected.
When I went back into the waiting room there were two people there with big dogs. Both had cones on their head. I asked if they were making another Conehead movie. I don’t think anybody got the joke. I guess I’m too old.
By then it was raining very hard with thunder and lightning so the woman at the desk said I could go out the back door which would be closer to my car. Another girl led me to the door and I went out into the pouring rain with Chris.
When we got home I put him inside the kitchen and opened the crate which happened to be a short distance from the food bowl. I’m sure you can guess what happened next.
My wife is looking for a housekeeper so our next door neighbor, April, recommended somebody that she knows. April is at our house quite often and she watches our cats when we go away sometimes, so our cats are very familiar with her. Of course, when April came over to introduce her friend to Rose, Frankie ran out the door and escaped.
It seems that everything interesting that happens with our cats lately happens while I’m at work. Rose sent me the following text yesterday morning.
A few minutes later I get this one.
When I got home I found out the whole story. Apparently April went back to her house with the lady and must have had her door open because Frankie ran inside her house. I don’t know what happened while he was inside but April then carried Frankie home.
It reminds me a lot of what happened when Chris was young. This might be my favorite story about Chris. You can read it here.
Last week my wife told me about something that happened while I was at work. She said one of those bucket trucks pulled up and a man got in the bucket and proceeded to trim the palm tree next to our house.
The noise freaked out Floki and Frankie, who came running into the house from the Florida room. They were both very nervous as they listened to the noise coming from outside. But Rose did not see Chris so she got up to check on him and was surprised by what she saw.
Chris was sitting on top of his crate, less than ten feet from the tree, watching the man trim the palm fronds.
If someone else has a cat like Chris, I would love to hear about it.
Chris is no longer the adventurous, trouble seeking cat he used to be. Now he just causes trouble whenever he can do so with little to no effort. For example, I noticed recently one of the food bowls is often turned over on its side. I know Chris was doing it but never actually caught him in the act. He has become so lazy that he can’t even stand up to eat his food. He tips the bowl over and eats while lying down.
While I was at work yesterday my wife sent me the following photos from the scene of the crime, where the culprit was caught on camera.
I guess I need to put up a sign that says, “No tipping, please.”
I took Frankie for a walk last weekend and took a few photos of him rolling in the grass. My phone photos automatically back up to Google Photos where I was presented with a Google-generated collage of Frankie.
How Google was smart enough to pick those particular photos, I don’t know, but I thought they were good choices.
The original Fort Box was a hit with the cats but, if I remember right, Chris broke it by lying on top of it. It just wasn’t designed for his weight. I decided to make a new Fort Box that was bigger and better than the last one.
I started with two boxes and I taped the top of one and the bottom of the other very well. I then put one on top of the other and secured them together.
I opened the top and cut an opening between the two boxes. I then cut an opening in the bottom box and another in the top box, along with several peep holes. While I was cutting the holes, Frankie and Chris were already inside the boxes investigating. I had to be very careful so I wouldn’t cut one of them.
I brought Floki to the vet this morning to get his nails trimmed. The vet’s office has a one-year-old tabby cat named Freddy. He was the inspiration for me to buy a window bird feeder after watching him react to the window bird feeder at the vet’s office during a previous visit.
As Floki and I were waiting for our turn, Freddie jumped on the counter from the back area and then jumped down into the waiting room. We were the only ones waiting at the time and Freddy was very interested in meeting Floki.
There was no hissing or growling. Freddy was just being friendly and Floki was pretending that he couldn’t see Freddy. He kept looking the other way.
I think Freddy recognized the snub and decided to just lie down nearby.
Someone came then to get Floki and bumped Freddy with the door as she tried to get into the waiting room.
While I waited for Floki, Freddy played with me. He would grab my arm with both paws and bite me. They were friendly bites and I didn’t pay much attention to them at first but then noticed my wrist was bleeding. I considered asking for something to clean it with but then thought better of it. I didn’t want Freddy to get banned from the waiting room.
After a short time, he settled down on top of the scale, where his weight fluctuated between 13.8 and 14 pounds. That seemed a little hefty for a one-year-old but it didn’t seem to impede his jumping ability. Maybe his judgment was off a little, though, because he then jumped back on the counter like a bull in a china shop, knocking things over along the way.
Just then the vet tech came back with Floki and I paid my bill. While I was at the counter, I noticed a sign with Freddy’s picture on it. The sign read, “I like to play with my teeth. Pet me at your own risk.”