The annual cruise on lake Coeur d’Alene came off last night. Ourselves, Scott and Andrea, Tim and Cheryl, Patty and Ann and Ann’s husband Richard all took the dinner cruise out onto the lake, and a very good time was had by all, celebrating Jane’s successful hospital venture, my birthday, and the presence of good friends.
To my own disgust, I had serious problems getting into and out of Patty’s truck and likewise with negotiating the stairs on the boat with my hands full—no accidents, but I am sitting here today with a heating pad on the knees.
Patty, Ann, and Richard came over to pick us up and do the driving, since Patty doesn’t drink, which is a nice arrangement, and everybody made it well before departure, which is sometimes a squeaker because of the traffic on i-90. It rained early in the day. The evening was sweatshirt weather, and by full night, coming in to dock, a light coat was needful—the boats do catch a little wind.
Part of the reason for the sore knees is yesterday spent getting the house super-tidy for visitors. Sweeping, mopping, and ferrying boxes to the garage, some of which were not light boxes—so we have this tough little garden wagon—metal mesh and steel, with 4 solid tires, that lets us get between the back door and the garage steps without killing ourselves. It’s tippy, with careful management, that’s several hundred pound loads we don’t have to physically carry the 40 or 50 feet to the garage.
Anyway, I am sitting here heating my knees, but I was by golly, able to work hard and party hard, and I did make the boat stairs ok. Even if ouchy, so I can’t complain.
Frustrated and not happy with Curry, and I’m a little worried. — No mattress pad, etc., on the bed, just 30 gal. black trash bags spread out. And the darn cat got up there and _peed_ _again_! At least I caught him at it and scolded him, then hurried to clean it up. What a mess! I’ve sprayed the mattress with deodorizer / disinfectant in an effort to neutralize it, but…that’s my blankety-blank mattress. Threw remaining bedding in the washer. I am danged unhappy. (And he’s meowing, wanting out again. Fluff-brain, be glad I don’t just boot you out. And…I can’t do that. Won’t.)
Nuts, I didn’t get everything. Gotta wash myself again. Ugh.
This may be not knowing the rules, except he’s slept on the bed and messing it up should be against cat cleanliness. This may be adolescent male: His urine smells strongly, and that may be “male cat” too. (Hmm…I wonder if that can set me off, as an adult male human. Pheromones or enough in common as two mammals?) This may be connected with his (still loose) stools, though. Or some combination of all those. I have no idea and I’m not a vet, of course. — But behavioral and physical causes, it needs to be stopped so he knows not to do that again, and doesn’t have the urge; if it’s possible to stop the behavioral side of it, besides any physical cause.
I am reminding myself he has no real idea of what it’s like to be an indoor cat, to truly trust humans, who must have been as much of a source of friendship as threat to him before. He’s adolescent, which means testing all limits and boundaries, rebelling against authority. He has a strong “alpha male” streak, but hey, kitty, you are not going to boss me around. I’m the leader of the pride / colony here.
Anyway, whatever is going on…I am reminding myself to give him plenty of chances. I got fed up with Smokey and put him out, in the carrier, and I have felt bad about that ever since, a serious breach of one of my most cherished principles. I was wrong to do that, even though I’d lost my cool to that degree.
So I don’t intend to go back on my commitment. I took in this little feisty so-and-so, and dang it, I like and love him by now, as inexplicable as that is, and he’s got potential I can see. Just…dang.
I have got to convince those friends to get the two cats and I to the vet so we can get this resolved. I am oh so unhappy right now. — I will be in a sleeping bag on the floor tonight to sleep. Yippee. Thanks, cat. I will, somehow, have to neutralize the odor entirely and dissuade him from doing it again. Going to spray the room again. Nuts.
Oh, I just had to take in a cat because I thought he was friendly. Sigh. — Now I get to (somehow) socialize this little brat so he can have a live with me. Grr. — I hope I can get through to him and not create more or other problems. Going to wash up and see if I can have a little time with him…at least to get him to hush for a little bit.
tomorrow will be four weeks since he’s been here. I never would’ve thought we wouldn’t have gotten to the vet by now. Sigh. This has got to improve.
BCS, I’m having a rough time imagining that your friends stood you up after 4 confirmed requests to run a not-insignificant errand. Do you have contact with these folks outside of asking them to help with driving you places? By this time I’d be asking if they couldn’t do the errand, not be shy, just say so right out, then you could try to contact a cab or make other arrangements. If you request a Lyft, for example, can you get the cats and yourself down to the curb where they could find/see you?
It was 3 attempts missed. I have to reschedule for this week and get my friends motivated to pick up the cats and me. — The first time, the one friend forgot, he said. The second time, the next day, he’d promised to come by and didn’t show up. So I rescheduled with the vet for the next week and called the other friend and left a message, and then reached him by phone, but he was busy and said he had trouble hearing me and would call back. He didn’t. I called back and didn’t get him, and let it be. Then when I next called the friend from the first two go-rounds to pick up packages, he said he’d missed me, and I said, no, I was ready and waiting and missed him. But he did come by later with the packages.
These two guys are brothers-in-law, they do house-flipping and renovations, and one has another business also. I’m very frustrated, because they keep saying if I need anything, call them, their office is nearby. But this keeps happening.
I had tried with both Yellow Cab and with Uber, the two companies which serve Houston. Yellow Cab locally has been very badly run for several years, making it hard for the cabbies to make a living. I used to have one and then another regular cabbie who were both good. But I had trouble even getting a call in to Yellow, and the cab never arrived. (Or it arrived at the apt. offices instead and left without contacting me.) Uber, I tried three different times, and had appointments I needed to meet. The first time, the cab never showed. (I couldn’t determine if they were supposed to arrive at my side, across the street, or the apartment offices on the other side of the street. I didn’t get a straight answer from the apartment offices, either.) The second time was early, before dawn, in order to go across town, and would have been a good fare for the cabbie. An hour before my appointment, while I was getting ready, I got an update from Uber: the cab was cancelled by them or by the cabbie. I had scheduled at least a day ahead. I was stunned. There was no way I could make my appointement on time and I had to cancel and apologize. The third time was another no-show, while I was at the gate waiting about 15 minutes before time and over 20 minutes afterward.
This is why I began trying to rely on friends for rides instead of going by cab. — After my second regular cabbie had to quit for health reasons, I would get the luck of the draw from Yellow, while I was at my old house. I didn’t have any luck finding a regular cabbie, despite two I had thought might be, and one who was, oh, very happy to tell his (prejudiced) opinions on people and politics. (The kind of guy who will say he’s not prejudiced _but_ , and then go on to prove he is, about whoever or whatever.)
So these friends claim they want to help, and they have helped at times. But they also regularly “forget” or “get busy,” and claim one thing or another, often enough for it to bother me and for me to have said, hey, you know, if you don’t want to do this, or you’re too busy, or whatever, tell me. And if you see you can’t make it, call me. They both have my cell phone number and know my apartment. For example, the one friend could have called me or knocked on my door to say he was here. I was ready and waiting, was outside for a while and went back in to be with the cats, who’d been in the carrier each time for a long period, 10 to 15 minutes before and 15 or more afterward, in case my ride was early or late.
When I had cab appointments here at the apartment, I tried waiting at the gate to here and tried waiting outside my apartment.
I just feel completely frustrated about it.
Also — Metro Lift is my city’s Metro (bus) program for a handicapped bus, typically for wheelchair users with the wheelchair lift, thus the pun. — I am of course, eligible for this, but typically, I need a cab for groceries or other errands. When I had been to the eye doctor on two previous visits, I had asked for the doctor’s office to send off the paperwork so I could get a Metro Lift pass. (Proof from a doctor is required to show you are eligible for whatever reason, and the doctor’s office is supposed to sign it and give it to the patient or send it in directly. Then the Metro dept. mails you the pass and you’re in.) Note that I have heard and seen often that the Metro Lift buses are often wildly early or late or don’t show, which is really hard on anyone handicapped. Cabs are supposed to give folks with Metro Lift passes a reduced rate. — After repeated calls back to the eye doctor’s office and promises it would get done, it never did. — Understand, the low-vision clinic is a cooperative effort between U. of H. and the Houston Lighthouse for the Blind, and the two eye doctors and their two assistants, who work at the clinic at the Lighthouse, are volunteers with limited hours. One of those eye doctors also works for the local V.A. office. So…yeah. Even with persisting, I finally just let it go.
So I feel very stuck, and keep persisting.
On my last call to the new vet’s offices, I asked, well, if my friends didn’t make it, was there maybe any possibility that someone from the vet’s could come by and pick me up, a one-time thing? I’d explained I was legally blind and therefore relying on friends for a ride, and that was why I’d missed before. The young lady said ordinarily, they might could, but that week, they had half their staff out, and she wasn’t ordinarily the one manning the phone, or they might do that. (I didn’t expect they would and was surprised they might.)
Note, yeah, also, my circle of local friends evaporated during the last few months of my grandmother’s illness and after she passed away. Former church friends, business contacts, others, just fell by the wayside. Several of these folks were my parents’ age, so they no longer could do things other than advice or rides. Others work and I guess didn’t really understand where I was coming from, despite knowing me. (My handicap didn’t used to be so apparent. It was easy for people to forget I can’t drive.)
The apartment office management staff has a high turnover, and the people there now barely know me. In the now 2-1/2 years I’ve been here, the senior manager has changed four times. I get the impression that this complex is still above average or good, compared to many, but yeah, getting maintenance done is a hassle. (Oh, you can get it scheduled, but getting a guy there and then getting something actually done is the issue. Not only communication / language barrier, but the office and the maintenance workers and foreman use (of course) a computer app to track everything. That is only good if it actually is done, instead of missed or excused or cost-saving for the apts. by doing a lesser fix or by saying they saw it and it was fixed, when it wasn’t. (I can’t be the only one who has had this happen.)
Just…aarrgh, and that’s also what prompted the, “I need a man Friday” quip.
I think my friends mean well. I think they may not realize how often they have missed or forgotten because they were busy. And I think they’re too nice to say they can’t / don’t want to / etc., because they think they want to help. — I am pretty sure this is a constant issue for folks like me dealing with friends, except that usually, there should be a wider circle of friends to distribute the load. And it’s not even weekly that I’m calling and asking, except for this with the vet appointment.
I think this is just typical of how most people are. People mean well and will say things, but very few people will follow through reliably when someone needs something, large or small. I know, objectively, it’s not just me. But it is rough on the ol’ ego and spirit when it happens too often. — I am very, very glad to be able to order groceries delivered, and I depend way more on Amazon than I want to.
I know the names of only a handful of neighbors, but it’s been only hello, how are you, and nothing more than that. (I still haven’t run into the cat-friendly guy, despite varying when I go to the dumpster or mailbox, or I might’ve made a contact there.)
There’s an update about Curry. I’ll post that separately.
Curry, the new kitty — I’d written that yesterday, he had peed on the bed that morning, and I think I wrote that he’d done so again that evening, and then on the floor. I wasn’t sure if this was from not knowing any better, or physical / medical needs, or a behavioral issue. But I cleaned up, sprayed Lysol and “Nature’s Miracle” spray to a fair-thee-well, and closed off the bedroom overnight.
I tried sleeping on the danged awful couch and on the floor in the other bedroom. No real luck. (Dang, that floor is hard, despite the carpet.) I want that couch moved out and I want to get something else in while I can still afford it. Or just do without. (I checked. The price of a futon is about the same as for a cot, so I’d go with a futon. But I want to see if a sofa bed might be affordable. Kinda think that’s more than I want to spend.)
After a dawn trip to the dumpster to throw out paper towels, etc., used in the cleanup, I dared my bed, bare mattress and a covered pillow, and not near where I’d sprayed it. Meanwhile, the mattress pads (2) and bedspreads (2) the 2nd ones were in line to be washed anyway, were on the rack to dry. So I slept part of the morning and part of the afternoon, with chores in between. The bedroom remained resolutely closed off.
This evening, the mattress pads and one bedspread were dry enough to make the bed. Yay. Did that.
OK, do I chance this? Is Curry going to do it again or not? (Goober is fine.)
After much meowing at the windows wanting out (No, kitty, it’s raining, you do not want out there, even though you think you do) Curry then came in the bedroom. He was fine for all of five minutes, and laid down on the bed. Well, OK, kitty, I guess we see how you do. I can’t keep you locked out forever.
He sat up and pooped on the bedspread, with me telling him no, loudly and very unhappy and despairing about it. Wasn’t going to work to move him while he was doing it. As soon as he was done, I scooped him up and put him summarily in the bathroom and closed the door. — I then cleaned up the mess, stripped off the bedspread, and put it back in the washer; 2nd time in as many days.
The other bedspread was just dry enough to put it on the bed for tonight.
Curry remains in the bathroom. I moved his water bowl in there, and Goober’s litterbox is there. — I checked Curry’s literbox. There was something there, covered, more or less, from today. But he has used it before with no problem in the same state, and dang it, I have been sifting their letterboxes twice a day since Curry has been here.
I had considered last night, while not sleeping on the floor, whether this was working out or whether it was too much and not getting better.
Tonight, after having put Curry in the bathroom and cleaning up, I have been thinking of that again. Darn it, I like the little guy, even so. But this was too much, and it felt like it was on purpose misbehavior, more than, oops, I don’t know any better and I’ve gotta go. He knows where his litterbox is and he knows where Goober’s is. He’s had very few misses since the first two weeks. This felt like, I’m not getting my way and I was locked out, so I’ll show you. Since he peed last night (twice) and pooped tonight (once) on the bed…. I can’t put up with that. He’s got to learn he is not allowed to do that.
I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He still has a loose stool (smelly!) and he s adolescent, so male cat puberty is going on. (So, smelly pee gets stronger.) This, coupled with this frantic, every night for the past week or more, wanting outside at night, but him letting me bring him back in when he’s popped outside in the daytime. And then the misbehavior with the bed, peeing and pooping. And he still hasn’t learned fully not to hold back his claws.
The bed tonight was the last straw. — I don’t know if I can stand this. If it’s going to be permanent misbehavior on that level, I can’t, and I’m in an apartment rather than my own place, which makes things more imperative.
I want to find out if it’s possible for him to be trained out of this, and how I or a foster cat person could do this. I do want to rule out the physical / medical side of it. And he needs to be neutered, plus he needs his shots, tests, all those usual first round of vet care items.
But I think I may have to bring him to the vet and say, he’s too much for me to handle, I’ve had enough, and I’m sticking with Goober for the remainder of his life. Smokey’s growing misbehavior and refusal to change, despite me doing everything I knew how to both accommodate and to get him to change, just adds to my disappointment and frustration. I had thought, hey, I’ve got a great little cat, he’s a handful, but I’ve raised plenty of kittens, half-grown adolescents, and cats, I can do this. He needs a home. A stray or feral cat in the city has around a 2-1/2 year life expectancy. An indoor cat can live 12 to 15 years, with the record being something like 25 years. He’s way better off to have a home, a family.
But maybe right now, I’m not the right fit. Is it just me? Is it him, is he that upset about being inside instead of a free, feral cat, that he’d rebel that much to think I’d boot him out or let him go? — But particularly after I mishandled things with Smokey, I will not do Curry wrong. — I am undecided whether to say, let someone else raise him, or if I can handle it, keeping him, with perhaps some fostering to socialize him and train him what to do as an inside cat.
I am hugely disappointed in him and in myself. I thought I had a good deal, a new cat who’d make a good addition, company for Goober and for me, a breath of fresh air, even though he’s a little spicy/salty; I figured that would calm down with the usual lots of love and some training, and with neutering to resolve the imperative going on there.
So now he’s in the bathroom and he’s going to stay there overnight. I’m going to check on a vet appointment and talk to those friends, and one way or another, Curry and Goober have to get to the vet. But I am not sure if I can or should keep Curry. I don’t know if it’s my fault or his, or if it’s just a thing, not a good match, he’s too feral to stand this. If he can have a good home somewhere else, maybe that’s what he needs. But I had gotten my heart set on having him here. Uh, but repeated misbehavior…tonight was too much. I just can’t figure out if it’s my failing him, or if it’s just that he needs to be elsewhere, with someone else. I thought I was ready to take on another cat. Now I wonder if I should just stick with Goober and then see what happens in a few months or years, when he’s gone. (Goober will be 13 at the end of October, counting from when I got him. He was between 6 and 8 weeks old then, so he’s really already 13.) But Goober’s health is good, so I think he might make 14 or 15, barring anything major. My oldest cat was Toby, Goober’s predecessor, who made it to 13 and several months.
I don’t get this. I’ve never had the trouble I had with Smokey before, and now Curry, who is in some ways like Smokey, but mostly is different, seems like he could be milder, but is still largely a stray / feral. I had thought I’d be able to socialize him fine, he’d settle down and be happy.
Maybe he still can. Have I become too impatient or intolerant? Is it me? I don’t know. I’m unhappy, upset, and disappointed, and trying not to be heartbroken.
It will likely be tomorrow or a few days before I can get them to the vet, depending on how the friends and the vet’s appt. schedule do.
So in the interim, Curry stays in the bathroom overnight, no compromise on that.
Tomorrow morning, once I know what will happen tomorrow, we’ll either get to the vet, or else the bedroom door will stay closed and Curry will get to be in the rest of the apartment, and in the bathroom at night.
I really hope we can get past this and he can still have a home here, but I don’t know what to do. I was so disappointed and a little shocked that he did it on the bed. So I may have to turn him in to the vet to find him a home elsewhere. He has to have his initial care and Goober needs tests, since he’s been around him all this time, and Goober needs his shots renewed.
I guess at least I may have given Curry the chance for a longer, better, healthier life, by taking him in and seeing he gets care, instead of running around loose like the other stray cats around the apartments. But I’d wanted him to have a home here with Goober and with me. So I’m kinda heartbroken, and I am trying to figure out what to do and whether I can or should try to tough this out. If he can indeed learn better and behavior and any physical issues can be worked out — If he can settle down and behave reasonably, then he can have a good, loving home here. But right now, I am not sure if he can ever be really happy here, or if he can behave well enough for me to keep him. He may need to belong somewhere else, with someone who can take care of him and train away the misbehavior, or give him a place where he can roam free.
Just, damn it, I liked him, I still do like him, and I wanted him to be here with us.
Maybe it will all work out and I am just borrowing trouble. I don’t know and I’m not happy right now.
But I am going to make sure he gets treatment and gets a new home, somehow. He deserves that. I wish I had done better for Smokey. I should have thought to call around to shelters and vets to see if someone could pick him up to give him a new home, instead of putting him out there in a carrier on the curb near the gate, and trusting it would happen. Or I should have been big enough to put up with Smokey and keep him. I miss him, even so. So I will make sure I don’t make that mistake with Curry. If he needs to be with someone else, OK, but I owe it to him to make sure he gets treatment and gets a good home. — It’s just, I wanted him to have a good home here with Goober and with me. I’m upset at the misbehavior. I’m heartbroken that I may have to give him away in order for him to have a better life, when I wanted him here.
So…. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe there’s still a way he can have a good home here. It’s just that I feel right now that he needs to be with someone else instead.
I didn’t shampoo the carpet today, so that needs to happen tomorrow or the next day.
I didn’t put in my grocery order, so that has to happen too, for delivery this week. I’m out of.a few things, and it needs to get done this week.
I will update once I know something, and again after there has finally been an actual visit to the vet. Just…dang. — Also, it’s still raining. Curry doesn’t realize it, but if I had let him out like he wanted, he would have been out in the rain all night, holed up wherever he had been, probably since his birth or since being on his own from his mom.
Gotta hand the bedspread to dry again.
I am sorry to bring such upset and unhappy news, folks. I want this to work out for Curry, even if it doesn’t work out the way I would have wanted it to.
I feel like I keep trying to do things right and I keep falling sort or things happen to squash it when I do make progress. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I can’t help but feel like that. I want things to improve. I am so, so tired of it being like this.
I wish Curry could stay. Maybe it will work out after all. Or maybe he needs someone and somewhere else. 🙁
@BCS, do check out your local pet shelters, and also feral cat TNR (trap neuter return) and rescue organisations. The last time I searched for those, after Smokey, there were three in your area.
(Search for Houston cat rescue, Houston TNR feral cats, Houston pet shelter, things like that).
If Curry is still so semi-feral he feels you’re keeping him locked in against his will, and protesting/punishing you by peeing and pooping where he knows it will bother you the most, he may need extra socialization in a shelter set up for handling ferals.
I watch the “Tiny Kittens” feral rescue & TNR shelter (in Canada) online, and they do really good work socializing ferals and semi-ferals, and finding a safe place for those who can’t stay indoors, like as a barn cat where there’s shelter and food. There’s likely to be something like that in your area too, though they aren’t streaming it on YouTube.
If it’s caused by a health issue, or by being unneutered (trying to take over your prime territory with his smells), those shelters can deal with that as well, and then train him out of that behaviour.
Those rescue organisations will have volunteers who can come and collect him from your appartment.
My young girl kitten had an accident on my bed, the second night she was in my house, and after that she started treating it as the place to go. I used a lot of absorbent underlayers (for bedwetting kids or postpartum new mums) spread out on the bed to protect it for a few days.
Then I moved the kittens to the living room and kept them out of the bedroom for a few months. Now I still keep them out of there at night, mostly because they are too restless for me to sleep through, but when I let them in in the morning & while I’m there, there’s no problem anymore, the association of the bed with going to the loo is broken.
They had a similar thing happen in the living room, deciding the corner beside the cabinet right in front of the entry door was the place to pee, and sometimes poop. I tried everything, but finally had to get rid of the cabinet to eliminate that corner and replace it with a litterbox before they would stop peeing on the floor there.
Your appartment doesn’t sound large enough to keep Curry away from the areas he has now designated as his bathroom, long enough to break that association; and in an easy to clean area until he stops pooping in protest or territoriality; which is why I think it might be wiser to talk to those cat rescue organisations.
You could also ask them, if when Goober is no longer with you, you could take in one of their rescued cats that has been basically socialized.
I hated not letting Goober into the bedroom the last two nights, but I felt there was just no way. I’m not going to put a litterbox in the bedroom, which is carpeted, ditto a water bowl. Curry’s out of the bedroom, at least until I know what I’m going to do for sure, and until and unless he can learn the bed and carpet are absolutely not the place to potty.
I sure missed not having Goober with me. — He has twice today been camping outside the bedroom door. — I gave him extra attention this afternoon.
Curry is still a mixed bag of sweet and socialized with salty-spicy stray / feral habits and instincts. I have been trying to overcome this with a lot of love, and mindful of my own reactions, but he occasionally surprises me, and he sure wore out my patience the past two nights.
But today and tonight, I am reconsidering due to his good behavior, while seeing, yep, he still has a lot to learn. (He grabbed my hand again tonight when all I was trying to do was reach out to pet him. He overreacted. I usually know how to handle this, so I was OK, but dang it, little guy, learn to read me and learn some manners, will ya?)
I looked at several local places’ info, and about half were not the best choice for one reason or another, though I may try calling the ones that had contact phone numbers.
One is only “open” on limited hours and won’t be open until tomorrow, Thursday. I’m going to check them.
One sounds good, if I can get in touch with them to see what I think.
One ( BestFriends.org in Houston, branches elsewhere ) seems to be connected with PetCo, and so I don’t know yet if they take in strays or will pick up a stray someone has found.
Several others were very limited, or didn’t take directly from the public or sites, and so on.
I’m gong to call the vet I’d been trying to get an appointment with and see if they have recommendations locally. More research tomorrow.
I’m still fighting with myself over whether he can and should stay with me or whether he is better off somewhere else. Yes, that barn cat solution is a good one, but that means someone would be going a good distance out of the city, into the county, to take him to a rural setting. (There are surely good places, including small or large farms, not too far from the city.)
But also, I am still of the mind that maybe this has physical roots besides the biological fact of being a “teenage” kitty in the middle of puberty, with those imperatives kicking in. (Whew, and we humans think we have it rough.) Or there may be complications, since he’s got that loose stool.
I am coming up with lots of reasons to keep him, while at the same time, lots of reasons he needs to be somewhere else. — The thing is, despite his bad behavior and how very serious that was, well, he’s a cat and he’s still learning, and…dang it, I made a commitment, and…I find I still love him, in spite of the bad behavior and very rough edges. He can still be very sweet, and I think there’s potential there. And…I am just plain attached. — I found myself telling him he’s a good kitty, I love him, and so on, right along with talking to Goober, as I usually would.
So I’m still trying to figure out what is best and what he needs. Keeping that separate from my own heart or my temper, which say some opposite things, isn’t proving easy.
This has been a long, rough week already, but it could be worse.
Still haven’t gotten to groceries, will do that tomorrow, hope, with delivery tomorrow or the next day. — And I hope to have Curry’s situation resolved by Saturday, at least. This needs to get solved for his sake. I hope my human friends or a shelter or the vet can come through on this.
Still tired from the past few days and my sleep/wake schedule is way out of whack more than its usual out-of-whack wackiness.
After a couple of ‘incidents’ with cats pooping or barfing on the bed, we barred both cats from the bedroom permanently. I don’t know if your apartment is large enough to do that (and it may seem mean to Goober, who has been gentlemanly, whereas his counterpart is still rough around the edges), but it may be an option while you are still socializing Curry.
Hanneke, thanks. I’ve looked at several of those now and will make calls when my too-smart phone is through updating itself. (Or I may have to bring it in for a fix.) It thinks its memory is full and doesn’t want to cooperate.
Good thing I still have some numbers in text or in print.
I will also be calling thereto. Looks like I’ll get to this tomorrow instead of today. I’m finally asleep on my feet. Didn’t sleep last night.
Gave Curry some attention, which he loved, but he either was tired of being petted after a while or wanted to play. And he popped outside when the mail arrived (tarp in case I need to cover the bed.) But I picked him back up while he was smelling everything, lol, and brought him back in. He, surprisingly, stayed there while the delivery guy was there. Curry didn’t go right back in, but also didn’t run away.
Strong pints in his favor. He may want what he wants badly enough to try to “punish” me for not letting him out, but on the other hand, he could easily run away or hide so well I couldn’t find him, any of the times he’s darted outside in the daytime or a couple of times in the evening.
If I knew for sure I could train him out of the tries to pee/poop in inappropriate places, that’s the one really bad behavior. If he can learn not to do that, I think I could work with the rest. I’ve had cats have accidents before and gotten past it.
So I am back on the fence, undecided. I’d thought I had decided for sure. So I’m going to take a little more time and mull it over. That, and oh, I need sleep. I may have to get my phone serviced or get a backup cheap / temporary model.
I’ll check in later or tomorrow. Curry’s OK, Goober is fine, I am OK. And I want to make a good decision, the right one too, for him and for Goober and not just for me.
I genuinely think my darned knees are two decades older than the rest of my body, and my body is no spring chicken.
But that is a lovely lake and a lovely cruise!
Everybody who has had knee replacements tells me they are great. I guess that goes under ‘sort of helpful but not immediately convincing’ news.
It’s said, “The memory is the second thing to go.” Not sure of the first, but I’m guessing it’s the knees. I mean, have you ever looked at the anatomy of the knee? It’s not a “joint”, just a lash-up of a few bones stacked up, an accident waiting to happen!
I’ve had both my knees replaced, I do prefer a couple of days spent in the world of hurt plus a few months spent in recovery to a lifetime of constant, grinding, edge of tears pain.
My mom and several of the women on my maternal grandmother’s side of the family had a history of knee and ankle trouble. My grandmother was lucky not to have it until into her 90’s, but then it caught up to her. My mom had trouble even when I was a little kid, meaning when she was as young as her late 30’s and early 40’s. (Mom and Dad were in their mid-30’s when they had me.)
I hadn’t really thought about it, but I don’t think the men on that side of the family tend to have any trouble with that, or their bones generally. I have only managed to break a couple of toes so far in my life, and my bones are, so far, in good shape; only my teeth have always had trouble.
Now I am wondering how or if that, bad knees and ankles or weaker bones, could be genetically sex-linked. Certain traits are, but I can’t imagine how that would be. It seems like it would affect the males as equally as the females. It seems to be passed down the line, as if it’s an inheritable tendency, at least. I know women tend to lose more calcium and have more trouble with osteoporosis as they get older, due to how their bodies have to deal with their monthly cycle, both before and after menopause. But I wonder if there could be more to it than that. It’s a thing that people in the family notice and remark upon, bad knees and ankles for the womenfolk, and I’m not sure how much they notice that the menfolk don’t seem to be as prone to it. But it’s one of those things where it’s not so severe that it’s seen as a big deal or noticed by medical doctors beyond a case-by-case basis. I don’t think anyone has noticed much more of that connection among relatives or studied it, and I suppose it’s minor enough not to merit that, probably.
Huh, well, I wonder about such things periodically.
Because my mom had such trouble early on, and because my grandmother had serious trouble with it once she got so old, I have always been aware I’d have to watch out for this as I get older. I’m now (darn it) middle-aged (oh, I am not ready to be that) so I need to be more aware and careful, I guess. Hoping it has genuinely skipped me. It did not seem to affect any of my uncles or male cousins on that side of the family. On my dad’s side, nothing like that that I’m aware of, and I’m pretty familiar with both sides.
Also, there is nothing quite like having your grandmother in the hospital for a hip replacement while a gentleman her age from our church was in for the same thing. This was kind of cute and sweet. He was a very nice guy and my dad (son-in-law of my grandmother) liked the old fellow a lot, respected him, which was a high mark in the man’s favor. My grandmother and he had sort of courted a little as old folks, but neither one was ready to go steady or get hitched, so to speak. (Honestly, as conservative as I am, I would have been fine with whatever they wanted, because they were a good couple. I would’ve been happy for them if they had gotten together.) Anyway, I was amused and heartened when he, soon after he was cleared to get up and walk on it, made a chivalrous point of getting a teddy bear from the hospital gift shop and gifting it to her, with me there to see the two have a friendly, neat moment. — That teddy bear almost made it through the move, but got badly damaged, and I was very, very unhappy to have to discard it. I’d kept it purposefully to remind me of how good that was, seeing such an old couple, just friends but with a romantic spark there, respect and a kind of love. So I guess there’s some ope for all of us, even later in life when you’d never think that would happen.
Hmm, if there is someone out there for me, I surely hope we don’t have to wait that long. I’m past ready to have that and never have yet.
Anyway, so you get a cute little old-folks love story along with a hip replacement story.
Oh, and they both lived several years after, and it wasn’t their hip trouble that got them. They did exceptionally well with that, in fact. They stayed just friends. I kept that bear on purpose afterward as a reminder of unexpected good things and love.
Those of you recovering from or expecting joint replacements, get well soon, have a really good recovery. And who knows, ya mind find some nice beau or belle! 😀