They can have very, uh, strong personalities. Our first cat was a small calico, an only cat, who was sweet most of the time, but if you did something wrong, prepare for punishment. Like going on vacation. We’d get back, it was like, meow, meow, meow (“Let me tell you why I’m going to punish you”) and then she’d bite my SO on the calf and run away. Never me. I don’t know why.
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yes, for sure. that’s one reason why i love them – they are SO expressive. my Artemis and i had a really deep understanding of each other, and could read each other really well. i knew how far i could push her and she knew likewise with me. i suspect your cat never bit you because she knew you were the top cat in the pride, as it were, and she didn’t want to lose favor with you by showing anger at you – only your SO. Artemis would occasionally put on attitude like she was going to challenge me as top cat, but she’d always back down if i made it clear that it wasn’t a good idea. (but in all honesty, i knew she really did secretly rule as top cat, haha. i was totally putty in her paws.)
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Most dachshunds always look weird to me because they’re so small and delicate. Growing up, we had a short-haired standard dachshund which dad used to take fell walking (and he was serious about his fell walking). As a consequence his body was like a barrel of muscle and it was easy to see how you could set them to dig out badgers.
Fun fact: he used to sleep on an old fleece jacket and in the morning we’d have to extract him from the sleeve.
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His little sweater!
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Now Sonatina above never gets mad at all, except when being combed in forbidden (i.e., nether) regions. For some reason, she seems to be at the bottom of the pecking order.
But you’re right; I think calico/tortoiseshell cats tend to be a bit on the cranky side.
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Here is Sonatina’s sister, Alizarin. (We usually called her Ally or Ally Cat). Alas, she died at 12 due to feline hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a couple of years ago.
But the mere fact Ally lived to 12 (after being diagnosed at 2) was an accomplishment! All due to medication, 4 pills near the end, which she took gracefully – and due to an excellent couple of vets.
Ally was the mellowist cat I’ve ever seen. She loved laps, shoulders, and upside-down cradling. She never had a complaint (except when our male cat bothered her; then it was screechville). Well, vet trips weren’t fun either.
Some weird coincidences, related to her heart: Her humane society name was “Cupid.” We named her Alizarin, after the crimson pigment, to sort of honor my mother who loved to paint (oils then acrylic). This was before she was diagnosed.
She had a prominent heart shaped blotch on her side, which you can sort of see above.
I worked with regulating prosthetic heart valves for a while, so I could sort of understand what was going on when Ally had one of her ultrasound scans. She had some valve problems at first, but that was sorted out with medication to slow her heart.
Weird, but I would have loved to have not had the coincidences and still have her here with us.
I think Sonatina misses her, or did. Her eating habits abruptly changed for about a month after Ally died; I think she was grieving, but who knows. We all miss Ally a lot, but we do have a lot of good memories! What more can you ask of a pet.
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I’ve had several kittehs take terrible health slides when they lost their buddies. Sometimes depression which healed with new friends coming home, other times unfixable slides into death. The later is how we have our current fold. We had three, but the loss of the eldest resulted in rapid decline in the other two. We brought home a kitten (derpasaurus), but the now-oldest kitteh kept declining. When she passed, we left the former youngest and the kitten with each other, but the remaining older cat continued to decline. Once the last of the older lot was gone, derpasaurus couldn’t cope as a single, so we brought home another kitten. The current youngest was simple lack of resistance on our part. The youngest is so damned sweet that no one can resist her.
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We had a lovely Tabby named Tiny, who was Iris’ best friend. When we lost Tiny too soon, Iris stopped eating, and stopped playing and hid a lot. That’s when Manny Pearl needed rescuing, and Iris stepped right up. It’s anthropomorphizing, I know, but I am convinced Iris was sad. And, I’m really glad that she got better, because I’m not sure how well Manny would have done without her.
RIP Tiny
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My dog was attacked by a Staffordshire mix (not sure with what, but too big for a Staffy) Friday. She dove through a hole she had dug under a fence and got my dog as my husband was walking him. I treated him for lacerations all over his face, and he’s healing fine.
But the owners of the Staff keep texting to ask how he is, and I’ve been ignoring them. But since they’re keeping the lines of communication open, do any of you with digging breeds have any resources on dog-proofing yards that you really liked? I don’t want the dog out in the street and attacking dogs or people or getting itself run over. They haven’t patched the hole yet, but are keeping the dog inside.
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Probably the same solution as for keeping burrowing critters out of the garden - bury wire fencing a good foot below where the dog is likely to dig.
Hope your doggo is better.
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Yeah. I walked by a couple days ago, and saw there was fresh dirt under the gate where the Staffy had tunneled out, so I figured they had dug in some chicken wire or something. Then my across the street neighbor found the dog in their yard yesterday afternoon, going after his menagerie. It turned out they just filled the trough, but didn’t do anything to prevent it digging out again. The neighbor called animal control, not knowing where the intruder came from, and animal control apparently gave them a mandate to dig in something to prevent tunnelling.
Poor dog. I hope they get it worked out so it doesn’t get put down or something.
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For those of you who know me from the other side, you may remember I picked up some rescue cats this last summer.
Tasha (elderly, cranky) and Ruby (young and rambunctious, amputated tail) are doing fine. There’s some jealousy and infighting, but nothing over the top.
Tasha is becoming more adjusted to being an indoor cat, and gaining weight. She still occasionally cries at the door, and I’d love to let her roam, but Tijuana’s no place for an older kitty with decreased hearing and vision.
More often over the past month, she has been coming to sleep with me, on the edge of the bed next to my torso. When I’m in the main room she still commandeers the painting chair in my studio area; even when I’m working, which makes sitting awkward for both of us.
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She’s looking good! Also, I’m glad you’re here. 
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George is having a nap, with a little bit of sunshine. I’m jealous. Is that bad? My shoulder has been painful all week, and I can’t ever get comfortable, let alone this comfortable. Sigh.
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i hear you – it’s getting to be the time of year where our cats spend their day chasing every little patch of sun they can find… they really do not like the winter. whenever i see them happily sunbathing, i really want to curl up with them, too.
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Happy ending: walked by this AM, and saw that there was a metal reinforcement under the gate, and that the dog had a handled vest on. The handled vest should make it easier to grab her if she does try to go under, or is on top of another dog. Really pleased.
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This is a far stretch from joy but my 18-year-old cat either has senility or some incontinence disorder. She asks to go outside during the day, with pleasure I let her out. Then at night she sees some cat in the backyard and spazzes out, screaming like Yoko Ono backing up a rock legend, and remains tempestuous with fear when I come on the scene. As I don’t enjoy being scratched up the arms like a junkie, I give her time to calm down, only 15-30 minutes isn’t enough. She waits at the front door to be let in, I open the door, she doesn’t move, I step farther from the door so she’s between me and the open door and rather than go in where it’s warm and light and smells like her like a normal cat would when it’s dark and 8C, she’d rather slash and bite at my shoed foot I use to prod her inward.
I’d read that a cat won’t piss and shit where she sleeps but the 18-year-old cat doesn’t read, so she’s banned from the bedroom.
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Does she yowl at night? I believe that’s a sign of decreasing mental status.
Ah, yes, the peeing where they aren’t supposed to. We have to tape up dog training pads in certain areas because one of our older cats has taken to thinking outside the box. Fortunately he does it in the same places, and hasn’t initiated a new spot in quite a while.
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I share your belief: my first Burmese started yowling at age 15, and stopped going out after a too-long sleep next door scared him, but that was his only sign of senility. She does not yowl at night and she’s happy to go outside. She’d purr like a lawnmower at night when she was in the bedroom but that’s her lifelong idiosyncrasy. She has a much heartier appetite than does the “sane” younger cat. But maybe senility symptoms differ from cat to cat.
That’s a good idea and new to me, to use dog training pads. I’ve been exhorting my minion to use Nature’s Miracle on the affected areas of the floor downstairs, but he seems more inept at reading instructions on bottles than at reading 700+ page military history tomes. [Scratches head in wonder.]
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In the states they’re called “Puppie Wee Wee Pads.” I think “Pee Pad” is a much more sonorous name, and alliterative to boot. We stick them up with blue painters’ tape (the crepe kind, not the fancy 3M Edge Lock kind, which don’t seem to work as well).
Cats are so inscrutable. It’s really hard to tell what’s bugging them. Our Russian Blue makes the most amazing noises but it’s during play, or right after meals. Sometimes she squeaks, like a mouse! Bizarre. But she’s not that old, so it’s probably not mental decline, I don’t think.
Myself, however, I feel like I will be yowling at night any day now.
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