Tuesday, October 7, 2008

All hail the Queen

Jess and Marlene came home tonight all sad and weird. They kept petting us and hugging us. Jess gave Gretchen a pile of chicken from Sunday night's dinner ($28 organic, local chicken) and a bowl of organic broth. Then a new doctor came over. Dr. Flo is her name. She comes to your house, which is pretty cool because it means we don't have to get in the plastic carrier, into the car, and into a scary room. So I wondered why Dr. Flo was there. I mean, I'm fine. Stoney's fine. Beyonce's going to the vet on the 24th. Why was she here?

Then I thought about Gretchen. She has gotten so skinny! She was always a little thing, but in the last three months she probably lost at least a pound. All she cared about was food. Her food, my food, everyone's food was her food. Dr. Katz put her on more steroids and that just made her want more food. She didn't want to play, she didn't care about laps or toys. She just ate, drank, peed, and pooped. She was definitely not well. That's why Dr. Flo was there. She was there to make sure that Gretchen was finally OK.

While I curled up under the table, Dr. Flo gave Gretchen a shot. Man, she was not happy with it! She growled and bit Jess! Then she dove into that bowl of broth and lapped, and lapped, and lapped. Then she got woozy. She wobbled and fell over. Marlene and Jess laid her on her favorite bed. The stroked her and pet her. Her breathing slowed down. Her eyes got huge. The girls started crying. When Dr. Flo was sure Gretchen was fast asleep, she gave her the second shot. Before I knew it, Gretchen was gone. We all said good bye, even though she was no longer there. Dr. Flo left with Gretchen's body.

So tonight, I'm remembering the Gretchen who growled her heart out at me when Stoney and I moved in. She was always the Queen of the House. She was feisty, fierce, and loud! She was first to the bowl, first in the box, and first out the door to the back yard. She was petite, cute, and pretty. Everyone noticed her, even before Doonesbury, the Maine Coon with the big belly. They saw her big eyes and lithe body and proclaimed her most beautiful!

Her passing was quiet. She will be missed. Even if it looks like I'm just napping, I'll be missing her every moment.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Don't ask

She had to do it. She had to get me on the scale.

I'm back up over 28 pounds.

Maybe it's muscle? Muscle weighs more than fat, right?

See, nothing good comes from going to the vet.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Ignorance is bliss, right

Marlene wants to take me to the vet and weigh me. I don't think it will do either of us any good. She'll be disappointed in me. I'll be freaked out about getting in the plastic box and being hauled around. She'll sigh and wonder where she went wrong. I'll squawk and hide under the bed.

I really have no idea if I've gained or lost any weight. I can't get up and down the stairs as quickly as I used to. I'm getting better at jumping up onto the couch. I still love my sweet, salty crunchies!

Seriously, do I have to? Couldn't we just stay home on the couch and watch Family Guy?

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Just how big is an inch?

Jess came at me with a tape measure the other day. I didn't know what she was up to, she just threw it around my belly. Naturally, I moved away, stepping over the tape like it was the finish line and I was the last runner.

"No, Mosby, come here, I need to measure your waist!"

What for? New pants? Come on, who needs to know.

"Mosby, sit still! I'm sure you're thinner! Let me prove it!"

I stepped over the tape, once again, refusing to look, refusing to acknowledge my girth.

"Mosby, so help me... Good boy!"

She tightened the tape. She did it again. She measured a third time. Lord, woman, don't keep a cat in suspense like this!

"Mosby! Oh, Mosby! You lost an whole inch off your waist! You're waist is only 26 inches!"

Then she gave me crunchies. Which I ate as though they were the last ones on the planet.

So, congratulate me, kids! I'm down an inch!

Friday, April 18, 2008

My workout video

I think I mentioned that Jess wants to get me on a treadmill. Now she has an exercise video for me to watch. Here's Buddy "out for a walk." At least he gets to stay inside, with a soundtrack! I get dragged outside on a harness passed Happy, the neighbor dog who doesn't get to go inside.

But I'm proud of Buddy. He's workin' it! He's moving his fluffy orange butt!

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Massage me, baby

I loooooove being massaged. Seriously, I demand it. I look straight at Jess and squawk at her until she caves! Then she gets down on the floor, puts me between her thighs, and rubs. She starts on my back, rubbing little circles along my spine, loosening up the tight muscles. Then she hits the spot between my shoulder blades. aaaahhhhh. Next, it's my neck and head, here she really digs in.

Then something happens and I end up on my back, legs in the air. She scratches my chest and armpits until I freak out and start chewing my arms. Then (and this is my favorite part), she runs her hands under my head and massages my neck and head again. ooooooohhhh. No, no, don't stop. Wait, get my cheeks, yesyesyes.


Wait! Where are you going? You're not done!


Monday, February 18, 2008

Sweet Mother, not again!

I'm finally getting to the point that I can clean more than my arms and chest. I haven't quite gotten to my crotch yet, but I'm getting closer. It's not comfortable or easy, but I can sit up, lean forward, and clean my back legs almost to my hips! I must look like a furry gumdrop left in the sun or something.

But this morning, I, erm, well, I got a little wet in the litterbox. OK, a lot wet. Jess was not happy when I climbed into her lap like that! Suddenly, I found myself back in the big, wet box, covered in baby shampoo! Jess was mercifully quick this time, but thorough. She laid me back across her chest and dried off my big Buddha belly. It wasn't comfortable, but she's so cute when she does things like that. I let her towel me off for a minute before wriggling free.

Thankfully, it's 60 degrees and sunny here in DC so I can just lounge in the sun and dry off. Lordy, I can't wait until I can actually clean all these spots on my own!

Saturday, January 19, 2008

About my toes

Hello readers, this is Stoney, Mosby's brother. I'm not nearly as Rubensesque as he is, but I'm still a big guy.

I'm not here to talk about me, per se, but to talk about a certain change in municipal policy I heard about. As you know, Mosby and I are declawed. This means that, early in our feline careers, a veterinarian put us under, sliced open our pads, removed the nailbed and first knuckle bone (they're attached), and sewed us back up. We had no say in the matter. None.

Most rescue groups (including the one we were adopted from) abhor this procedure and make you sign a contract saying you won't do it to any cat you adopt from them. Many municipal shelters have the same policy. Well, it seems that Frederick County, MD, may be changing their policy to allow potential adopters to declaw the cats and kittens they adopt from the shelter operated by Frederick County Animal Control.

There are plenty of articles out there that describe the horrors of declawing. I know Mosby's talked about them. I won't dwell on them here. Instead I'll ask you to take a moment and vote "Pro Paw." Save the next generation of cats and kittens from the pain and humiliation of declawing. Visit this petition: http://www.petitiononline.com/mc6984/petition.html. Add your voice. If you live in Frederick County, call your county supervisor. Better yet, call the shelter and tell them you are opposed to declawing and ask that they keep the current wording of their contract.

Thank you!

ps: The little vermin next to me is Beyonce the rat. We've come to an understanding: I won't eat her if she'll just leave me alone. We're working on it.