Recently I recieved microbiome test kits for pets from a company called NonNomNow. The test kits are called “Insights” and I got them at no cost to me in exchange for an honest review. You can read about why I think testing the microbiome is important on my previous post about this product here.
The kits arrived about ten days ago but it took that long for me to actually witness a cat pooping. Finally, this morning I saw Chris in the box. I wanted to retrieve his poop before he buried it but I was two seconds too slow.
The kit comes with two swabs and two vials. I was momentarily confused by that but then I assumed there were extras in case of mistakes. After reading the directions I saw that this was the case. The kit also comes with a small resealable bag to put the sample in and a pre-labeled return envelope. It also comes with a card that has the registration number on it and a place to write your pet’s name in case you have more than one pet like I do.
Once you have acquired the poop, the next step is to insert the cotton swab into it and rotate. If needed you can use it as a scoop to get about a pea-size piece.
Then place the tip of the swab in the vial, which contains a small amount of liquid, and then push down on the top of the swab. This will eject the tip.
The next step is to screw on the lid and shake. Then put the vial in the enclosed resealable bag.
At this point the directions say to apply the barcode sticker to the bag but the sticker came pre-applied. This concerned me a little but I assumed the directions were written at a time when the label came separate. The next step is to place the bag in the supplied envelope and seal it.
Once registered the only thing left to do is drop off your test kit at the post office and wait for the results, which should take two to five weeks. When the results come back I will share them with you as well as my thoughts about it.
What do you think? Is this something you would be willing to try?
Today is World Pet Memorial Day. It is a holiday supposedly created by the American Veterinary Medical Association but it is very difficult to find any mention of it on their website. It is also strange that an American organization would create a world event. Just as strange is the fact that the “National” Pet Memorial Day, in September, was created by the “International” Association of Pet Cemeteries and Crematories.
Regardless of who started it, I thought it would be a good time to talk about my dog Tasha. This does not diminish the memory of all the other pets we have lost but since I have not written much about Tasha on this blog I figured you might want to read more about her.
I believe it was April, 1976. I was twelve years old when my dad brought home a full grown female Doberman Pincher. Her name was “Natasha” but I don’t know who gave her that name considering where she came from.
The story I remember was that Tasha was a stray that was wondering around the neighborhood of a friend of my dad. Apparently, the two of them caught her and my dad brought her home. She had her tail docked and her ears cropped (although one ear flopped over a bit) so she must have belonged to someone. If someone dumped her it would be surprising.
She took to me right away. Back then I would watch television while lying on the floor. I don’t know why I wouldn’t have preferred the sofa. Perhaps the uncarpeted floor was cooler or perhaps other family members had taken the prime viewing locations. Whatever the reason, I would lie there and Tasha would lie next to me with her head on my pillow.
My memory is a little foggy so I don’t remember if this happened once or if it was a regular occurrence but one day Tasha started with her head on a little corner of my pillow. She then gradually took over more and more of that pillow. When I tried to retrieve some of that precious real estate I got growled at. I then got up and left her with the pillow.
Dobermans had a bad reputation back then. I heard they were used as guard dogs and many owners would beat them as puppies to deliberately make them more aggressive. Of course, they were bred to be personal protection dogs so they needed to be aggressive but also obedient. A trained Doberman would never attack without command.
I have read that today’s Dobermans are bred to be less aggressive and more of a companion dog but Tasha was already a great companion dog. I will admit, though that she did have some aggressive tendencies.
Shortly after we got Tasha one of my dad’s friends, Jack, came to the house for a visit. Jack was older than my dad and a bit of a hillbilly even though we lived in northern Illinois. He thought he would have a little fun with Tasha and started to pretend to harass me. He would slowly reach out his hand like he was going to grab me. While he was doing that Tasha was growling at him but he continued because that’s what Illinois hillbillies do. After about 30 seconds of warnings Tasha lunged forward and bit Jack in the hand. She didn’t hurt him badly but she did draw blood and put an end to his game.
When we got Tasha she wasn’t fixed and my parents didn’t get her fixed right away. That was a mistake because she loved to go outside and run and would sometimes escape, run around the neighborhood, and then slink back home an hour later. On one of those outings she got pregnant.
My younger brother and I shared a room. We had bunk beds and Tasha decided to give birth under the bed. I think we were away at school at the time. When we found her there it was a huge pain because we had to take the bed apart to get to her.
By then we had moved to a bigger house and had a partially finished basement that we used as a TV room. We put some blankets down and moved the puppies there. There were seven puppies if my memory is correct. One of the puppies had deformed front legs and I worred it wouldn’t make it. Tascha accepted the new location for a short time but wasn’t exactly happy with it.
My parents both worked and us kids went to school so Tasha was alone for a good part of the day. The first day we were gone after the puppies were born, Tasha decided that she wasn’t happy with the location we chose for her so she moved all her puppies to the sofa. When we got home we discovered that two puppies had fallen between the cushions and suffocated, including the one with the bad legs. It was very sad.
That evening, determined to keep her off the sofa, we layed three or four kitchen chairs on it. It didn’t work. She somehow managed to get herself and her puppies on the sofa between the chairs. We lost another puppy that day. I don’t remember what we did then but she was not able to get on the sofa after that.
One day a friend of my brother came through the basement door from the garage quite quickly which startled Tasha and she jumped up and bit him in the arm. Even though she drew blood it wasn’t an attack. It was more like a stern warning to stay away.
When the pups were old enough, my parents put an ad in the paper for free Doberman mix puppies but they didn’t tell me they did that. I came home from school and the phone was ringing off the hook. Dad’s friend, Jack, took one of the puppies and the other three were gone that evening. It seems people were interested in Dobermans and didn’t care that they were half-breeds.
Tasha also had a weird habit of suddenly getting agitated every once in awhile when people she didn’t know very well left the house. Occasionally, she would even nip them a bit. I was surprised to hear Richard Pryor talk about that in one of his skits. He said Dobermans will let you in the house with no problem. They’ll even show you where all the valuables are, but when you try to leave they turn into the Exorcist. “You can’t leave yet! I want to play!”
When my sister moved out, my brother took her room and I no longer had to sleep at the top of the bunk bed. Tasha then slept in my bed every night. That lasted until I was seventeen and bought a waterbed which was way more common back then. Tasha did not like getting on the waterbed and ended up sleeping on the floor. I felt bad about that but I didn’t anticipate that being a problem when I bought it.
Tasha loved food and would eat just about anything. The only requirement was that she had to see me eating it first. I could offer her a grape and she would refuse it but once I started eating them grapes suddenly became a great treat.
She also developed many styles of begging. If the puppy dog eyes didn’t work she would extend her paw. Surely shaking deserved a treat. If that didn’t work she would rest her head on my knee and give me the saddest look she could muster. Her go to was the drool. Whenever everything else failed she could count on the drool to get her food. It was pretty gross trying to eat while watching drool come out of her mouth so I always gave in and gave her something. I also always saved a little food on my plate and brought it up to the kitchen to leave for her. She knew whenever I was done eating and got up she was going to get something and got very excited.
She followed from the front when she thought she was going to get food. I would stand up and start for the stairs and Tasha would race up the stairs and wait for me at the top. This was something my dad once used to tease her. He got up with his plate of food and as soon as Tasha ran up the stairs, dad would sit down and wait. After about 30 seconds Tasha would come back down to see what was happening and the trick would start again. By the fourth time I had to yell at my dad like he was being a misbehaving child.
Tasha passed in April 1986, almost exactly ten years after we got her. Yes, I was a 22 year old still living with my parents at the time. I had plans on moving out but I feared what Tasha would think of me for leaving her behind. I was pretty sure I would not be able to take her with me.
She seemed perfectly healthy but one day she suddenly started foaming at the mouth. I thought she got into the cabinet and ate the laundry soap or something. When I let her outside she crawled under the deck and I had a hard time getting her out. She then hid somewhere in the house although I don’t remember where.
My parents brought her to the vet and left her there overnight. That night they got a phone call from the vet’s office saying that she didn’t make it. It was very heartbreaking. Apparently, she had stomach cancer. I can only hope it wasn’t because of all the food I was giving her. I was not the most healthy eater back then.
I moved out shortly after Tasha died and never had a dog again. The one exception was a Dalmatian named Ernie that we had for about a month. I was living with my now ex-wife. I believe it was around 1992. She brought Ernie home because a coworker had a husband that would abuse him. Unfortunately, my ex-wife was too much of a clean freak and after a week relegated Ernie to living outside. I felt bad for Ernie and soon found him a home with a co-worker of mine.
It wasn’t until I met my current wife in 1999 that I would have a pet again. This time it was a cat that eventually turn into two cats then three then four then six. Well, I think you know the rest of the story.
Of all our cats, Floki is the most interested in television. Often, when Rose and I are watching tv, Floki will watch too. Recently, I was watching a Youtube video about cat products that really peaked Floki’s interest.
Since I was already watching Youtube I decided to do a search for “videos for cats” and played one of the videos that came up. Floki was interested but he didn’t go crazy. I think he was smart enough to know it wasn’t real.
For Christmas, the cats’ Aunt Felice got them a Chia Cat Grass Planter. A great present because they all like grass and Chris loves it. Whenever Chris gets outside, the first thing he does is eat some grass.
It comes with everything you need: a bowl with a cat on it, potting soil, seeds and instructions.
I followed the instructions and put most of the “growing mix” in the bowl, leaving two tablespoons out for later.
I then added the grass seeds.
Next I covered the seeds with the remaining dirt. By then I had the attention of all the cats.
The instructions said to cover it loosely with plastic wrap so I did that and put it on the counter for a few days. I then put a little water in it and placed it outside where it could get some sun without someone eating it.
I think I watered it once more while it was outside but I pretty much forgot about it until the other day when I brought it inside. I also discovered that I was wrong about someone not eating it. It looks like one of the many rabbits in our neighborhood had a taste.I barely had time to photograph it before Chris discovered it.
That sparked Frankie’s interest and soon they were both munching on the grass. Puck, unfortunately, was napping somewhere and missed everything. It wasn’t very long before they mowed the grass down and moved on.
The next day, I brought it back outside to let it grow again.
I started this post with the intention of reviewing this product but I think the cats did that for me. I will say that this is a little more expensive than the ones in the cheap plastic containers but I found it as low as $9.76 on Amazon. I like it because it is heavier and doesn’t move around too much when the cats try to eat the grass. I may decide to buy one or two more so I can rotate them in and out of the house.
Puck has always been more timid than Chris or Frankie. Actually, every cat is more timid than Chris but what I am trying to say is that Puck can be a bit of a scardy-cat. He is not as timid as Flash, the brother of Tigger who passed a few months after we adopted Chris, but he does tend to run away from strangers while Chris, and sometimes Frankie, will go towards them.
My stepson, Nick, came to visit for a week over the Christmas holiday and Puck refused to come out of our bedroom while he was in the house. We had to put a litter box in our room along with food and water because we were worried he would not eat or drink or that he would do his business on our bedroom floor.
Unfortunately, Rose has a nose like a bloodhound and refused to sleep with the litter box in our room so I had to keep moving it back and forth everyday.
I felt bad for Puck because his entire day was spent on our bed or under it. Sometimes Chris would come in to keep him company.
After Nick left, it was such a relief to see Puck out and about and enjoying life again. The strange thing is, Rose’s dad and his wife came for a couple of days at Thanksgiving and Puck came out to visit with them. Also, my best friend, Rick, came here on New Year’s Eve and Puck not only came out while he was here, he actually got on Rick’s chair with him, and he has never seen Rick before.
Clearly, there was something about Nick that made Puck nervous. Perhaps Nick teased him last year when he was here. I don’t know. Does anyone else have a pet that is nervous around a particular person?
Yesterday was “National Love Your Pet Day.” When I heard about it, I couldn’t help but think that it is pointless to reserve a day for loving your pets. If you have pets, you should love them every day or you shouldn’t have them. How long do you think you would have a wife or husband if you reserved one day a year to love them. I know that sometimes I tend to over-analyze things. What do you think about this?
I am very saddened to say that Tigger is no longer with us. He was a good, loving cat who died too young. He will be missed.
I woke up Saturday morning around 4 a.m., as usual, because Chris was bothering me. I think I managed to get him to stop a couple of times, just long enough for me to go back to sleep before he would start biting my nose again or treading on my neck. I finally dragged myself out of bed a little before 5 a.m.
I didn’t turn the light on because Rose was still sleeping so I walked downstairs in the dark. When I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner I stepped in something wet. I turned the kitchen light on and saw there were two or three small spots of poop on the floor. I thought Chris had a problem with runny poop again and it all didn’t come out in the box.
I cleaned my foot, cleaned the poop off the carpet and then made coffee. While it was brewing, I went into the bathroom to clean the box and noticed several more spots of poop next to the litter box and in front of the bathroom. It was looking like a real problem so I decided to check the rest of the first floor. There were several spots in the living room but under the stairs and behind the television, where the other litter box is, was the biggest problem.
There were several more spots of poop but there was three large areas of vomit. I spent quite awhile cleaning the mess quietly, and while I did that, I saw Tigger climb into the litter box and vomit again. I suspected it was Tigger but I knew for sure then.
When I heard Rose was awake I brought up coffee and noticed more poop in our bedroom. That started a cleaning frenzy that lasted almost four hours. Rose notice vomit on the bed downstairs and washed the comforter, only to have him puke on it again as soon as it was replaced.
She made an appointment at the vet for 11:00 but wouldn’t let me come with her. She suspected Tigger would not be coming back and thought I couldn’t handle it. I knew she was wrong and I insisted that I come with her but she said she wouldn’t go if I went. Eventually I just gave up and let her go. She was right, he did not come back.
Tigger has been somewhat unhealthy for a while. When he was young we had to rush him to the emergency clinic late at night because he was having trouble breathing. It turned out that he had eaten too fast and had a clump of food stuck in his esophagus. They took x-rays during their diagnostics and noticed, in addition to his current problem, that half of his heart was enlarged.
A couple of years ago he developed a problem with his gums and had a problem eating. The vet said it is something that cats sometimes get and did not have a real solution to the problem except to give him steroids or antibiotics, either treatment was only a temporary fix. He said that removing all his teeth might stop the problem from coming back but he couldn’t guarantee that, so every couple of months the problem would come back and we had to get more antibiotics. We picked up the last prescription last Saturday and had not finished giving it to him yet.
He also seemed more Grumpy lately. I wrote in a recent post how he had been attacking Chris lately, which was not his character. We thought Abbey’s death had affected him, since they were close, but it could have been that he was just not feeling well.
Now it is just Chris and Puck, and Rose does not want to get any more pets because it is too hard to lose them. I totally understand. We have lost too many pets during the last three years.
In memory of Tigger I have created (on Flickr) a set of photos here. I also created one for Abbey here.