These Pretzels Are Making Me Thirsty

Yesterday, Abe (aka the Creepiest Bathroom Creeper Ever) decided while I was toweling off after a shower to attack the large owl tattoo I have on my back. He gave me no verbal warning, no chirruping at all, just wham! Claws.



For weeks now, I've come home or wandered through the main downstairs room to find the closet door open. This is my junk closet. Lots of stuff stashed in there, and I keep the door shut because it's kind of musty. The other day, I found I didn't have spooks, but that the proud culprit door-opener was Johnny. So bold had she become, she didn't wait for me to leave the room before she waltzed over to the closet door, stuck her front paws under it and tugged until she gained access.

THEN she lured Abe in and somehow or another he ended up locked in a box. I have no solid theories to back this up, yet I feel certain she orchestrated his capture and then sauntered over to me for a cuddle.

Vet said roy was not happy at all to be left behind, but warmed up once he got anti vomit meds and could eat. Had friend pick him up today and reports Roy is happy to be home. Was a bit frustrated by lack of promised phone call, but glad for good news. Nothing obstructing, she thinks he just got into something he shouldn't have.

Whew, and thx for all well wishes.

But we're getting there. Far fewer instances of Roy losing patience, and John and Abe seem to enjoy tearing through the house after each other - no hissing, just chasing.


^Phone pic, sorry


Today, though, Abe has decided John's bad habit of counter hopping was the status quo. He tried to jump up (he's still a bit small for such a height) and ended up knocking Roy's food dish onto the floor, shattering it. Boo, Abe, booooo. He's now on the naughty list, and just days before Christmas, too! I'm going to have only scratch under his chin for ten minutes daily instead of twenty.

Went out for mama cat first thing this morning, armed with another box, wet food, dry food and treats. I thought we'd have to coax her out, but she bounded out right away. You guys, she was so frantic for food. I was barely able to get the jar open or the treats down, she just was all over the place. It was heartbreaking, it really was. J, from yesterday, was with me again and he and I were both near tears. Poor thing. I got my hand in the way of her mouth and boy - nothing wrong with her teeth! Right on the knuckle of my right index finger. Debated an urgent care visit, and I think maybe I should have. It's a bit stiff and swollen right now (I washed it like whoa, used purell and neosporin).

Anyway, back to the cat(s). J took her over to the shelter at noon, which was when they discovered she was, in fact, a he. Shelter lady thought maybe they were in the same litter, but the first one (also boy), is a LOT smaller. Shelter said they would not take either one; if we left them there, they'd get offed.

Uhm, no.

So, after work I went to J's house, we gave the cats a bath in dish soap, then vinegar and baking soda and salt. I'm not convinced it got rid of the fleas (mine have never had them, so I have no idea what to expect, really) completely, but we'll see. Then I took one kitty home and J kept the other.

( Meet Abe )