Renal Kidney Failure in Cats – Three words that strike fear in the hearts of older cats everywhere.
As I write this, I’m lying here, twiddling my fingers (?), staring out through vertical bars.
Yup. I’m in the slammer.
Had a rough night on Wednesday so my Humans thought it best to drag my furry behind in to see good ol’ Doc. I like Her; my Doc. She lives with 5 Cats. That speaks quite highly of Her, don’t you think?
Anyway, now I’m nibbling on some pretty darn good slop and trying to ignore the thing on my arm.
If you don’t know what Renal Kidney Failure in Cats is, also known as CRF (Chronic Renal Failure), here’s a quick lesson courtesy of my friends over at FelineCRF.com:
And I quote…
“Approximately 200,000 tiny structures (nephrons) in the kidneys eliminate waste products and regulate electrolytes in the body. CRF results when these nephrons begin to die off and waste products and electrolytes can no longer be processed effectively. The waste then accumulates in the cat’s body. In effect, a cat in CRF is being poisoned by the waste that the kidneys are unable to filter. Electrolyte imbalances, anemia and blood pressure problems may also occur as the kidneys continue to deteriorate.”
Okay, here is a list of the symptoms to watch for; again courtesy of my friends at FelineCRF.com (I left off a few symptoms, frankly, because it just got too much for me to handle in my weakened condition): Continue Reading…
Litter box solutions shouldn’t be that difficult.
I don’t really require much to be satisfied – a warm spot to sleep, a nice scratching post, food and water all day long, some pleasant brushing, and a clean place to do my business. That’s all… not much.
My Humans do a relatively good job of giving me those things. But I hear stories, horror stories, of litter boxes gone very, very wrong.
Since we step into our “toilets” with our little footies, shouldn’t it be every Human’s desire to make sure the litter and boxes are clean? Think about it… how would you like to step into your toilet, dig around, do your business and jump out without anyone ever flushing it or scrubbing it. Hmmmm???? Not a pretty thought, is it.
Okay, go ahead and delete that from your brain. Sorry.
When a Cat steps into the litter box, he or she has two things in mind… relief, then dig dig dig bury bury bury dig dig dig. In other words, that litter (and the goodies in it) are going to get flung somewhere if the box is loaded with poops and clumps of pee. There I said it.
Please keep the litter box clean.
Onto two of my recommended goodies. First the litter, then let’s have a little fun with the litter box. Continue Reading…
Cat Behavior Problems – Peeing Outside The Box
What causes a Cat behavior problem like peeing outside the box? It could be having your butt dragged to a psychiatrist. That would make me want to find my Human’s favorite shoes and pee in ’em. Okay, that’s really not the reason; I just had to throw that in.
Anyway, I imagined I had the title Maddest Cat In The World. I imagined I had the worst temperament of any Cat in the world. However, I was scrolling around the internet the other day (which is somewhat difficult sans opposable thumbs) and stumbled upon this fascinating story of a dearly departed mad Cat named Calvin.
Kathy, the humorous Human of The Junk Drawer, aka junkdrawerblog.com and her master, the aforementioned Calvin – may he rest in peace – had come to a crossroads. Calvin was mad and displayed the devil within by simply being ornery.
I understand ornery Cats. It takes one to understand one. So, I understand Calvin. His devilish behavior manifested itself in a couple ways… 1) keep your hands off me, and 2) I’ll pee where I darn well please.
Since his behavior was getting so uncontrollable (biting the vet and other fun things like that) the Human decided to get Calvin’s head examined… by a shrink.
The result. You can read all about it here, The Thing I Swore I’d Never Tell Anyone at JunkDrawerBlog.com
The upshot is the shrink couldn’t shrink a thing. The ornery behavior couldn’t be changed. Ornery Cats are sometimes ornery because they can be. Continue Reading…
I thank you for the food you bring,
and for my little squeaky thing.
I thank you for your friendly talks,
and when you change my litter box.
I thank you for the naps we share,
and putting up with tufts of hair.
I thank you for these things you do,
but most of all for being you!
I, of course, can appreciate a good hairball since my So-Called Brother is the only one in this house who gets them. Being a perfectly coiffed Cat myself eliminates my ever having to say “I’m sorry I left that hideous thing on the carpet.”
Because all Cats like to keep themselves clean, we naturally get a bit of fur in our mouth when we’re grooming ourselves. So, it’s important that we get the least amount of fur possible, and that whatever fur we do get, moves on down and out!
Hairballs are really not balls at all, just in case you have never actually stumbled upon one. They are more like tubes of hair and gook (okay, food) that piles up in the innards without getting digested.
These “hair tubes” usually appear in the most noticeable place imaginable – on a white carpet, sofa, chair, or rug. They are rarely hidden. Cats who have them (never me, of course) normally display their handiwork proudly before they scurry away.
Some Humans may be able to catch their little Fluffy or Snowball in the process of relieving themselves of a hairball by simply listening. There is usually a distinct “cack cack cack c-a-a-a-c-c-k-k” followed by silence, then the pitter patter of tiny furry feet. Some Cats may stop and want to investigate, a.k.a. pay tribute, to their hairball, while others hurry under the nearest bed to hide out for the duration.
Now that you know how to identify a hairball and can recognize the sounds of a hairball being produced/presented, you may want to know what to do to prevent your Cat from gifting you with one. Continue Reading…
Will Humans ever learn how to brush and comb a cat the right way so we don’t end up with “dingelberries”?
Yes, the Humans have shamed me with dingelberries. That’s the delicate way I describe those gross clusters of matted hair and “stuff” hanging from my fuzzy little behind.
I don’t have opposable thumbs, otherwise I’d do it myself. I’m not kidding! The Humans need a lesson. It’s not my fault I can’t keep my caboose clean! You gotta help me out here.
There’s a basket in my house filled with an assortment of combs and brushes that the Humans have deemed are important and useful for making me look and feel wonderful. Now, if I can just get them to use the right ones.
Some of these grooming tools are good; some not so good, in my humble opinion. And, really, who else should have an opinion about MY grooming but ME.
Here’s a quick rundown of what the Humans have been subjecting me to in their attempt to groom me – as clumsy as that attempt may be. These pictures you see are of my ACTUAL real life brushes, combs, and other devices of torture, so who knows if you can still buy the same ones; even if you’d want to. Continue Reading…
Sometimes even I like to lay down and take a little nap in broad daylight. Okay, I always like to lay down and take a nap in broad daylight. I’m a cat for heaven’s sake. My napping habit hasn’t been a big problem, until now.
That She human of mine is home all damn day long now. Yup. All day, every day. It used to be that she’d disappear for the majority of the time when the sun was beating in the windows, warming up nice little slices of carpeting. You know, in between where those cheap blinds don’t close. Perfect little slivers of hotter-than-Hades places where a feline like me can snooze and toast my hide.
Day after day, week after week, month after… well you get the idea, there I would be, scorching my fur until the air was ripe with the smell of sizzling sweet cat hair. Love that smell. I’d put my face so close to the window pane that my eye lids, all three of them, would start to smolder… nice… then I’d move a little, but not too much.
Anyway, I digress. So, picture me, your glorious felis perfectis, sunning myself undisturbed in the heat of the day, stretched in contortions that only we boneless cats can manage, with my head upside down, pressed flat, hard, into a brilliant beam of the sun’s rays. My fur was just beginning to smolder when…
She walks in. Continue Reading…
Yeah, I was a cute kitten once, just like you, just like all of us. I was playful, too. Chasing imaginary critters under the bed covers… you know the routine. I also had the hopeful heart of any newborn – hope for a marvelously rich and rewarding life.
Then reality hit. I realized the humans that live with me were never going to leave the cupboard open to allow me the free-range feeding I desire. Nor were they ever, ever, ever going to let me outside to hunt and kill my own game. Heaven forbid I find a single little bug and try to play with it until I decide it has served its purpose, and chomp its little head off. Geez… you’d think I peed on the new carpet or something!
Now, all that’s left in this life is to torment, as best I can, my prisoners… er, I mean humans.
No, I wasn’t always a mad cat. I may have had the inherent traits of a mad cat all along, but I could have overcome them with a little bit of cattitude by the humans in the house. Instead, I find myself wondering what happened to that cute little cuddly kitten that I remember?
It’s all their fault. They turned me into a mad cat, and there is no option but to make them suffer for the rest of their sorry, fur-less lives.
This blog is my way of exposing these humans for their evil cat-less ways. All I can say is, Thank God I can type.
p.s. If you are a human who has stumbled upon this site, please, if there is one shred of decency in that body of yours, leave this site open for the cat to find while you’re at work. Thank you.