Go ahead, click on it. Would YOU survive?
These numbers are about me surviving. My wolf odds are looking pretty good. I've known about the cat for years. In fact, I've been whooping his ass on a regular basis the past few days. He is old, 14ish this summer I do believe. He's starting to walk like an old man. And his gut is HUGE so he's got a lot to tote and he often looks "stove up" when he struts around. I found some "hey your cat has old bones" pills at Wally World last weekend so we dropped $8 (!!) for a 60 day supply. He's not really down with taking the pills but I have opposable thumbs and the will to put some pep in his step. And its working, he strolls smooth like a pimp now.
Now Mr. Tat Cat has lived outside for the most part of his life. He'll come inside and hang out for a bit, especially on hot days (he's old and fat, remember?) but he usually wants to spend his time outside and I'm cool with that. He doesn't get fleas, maybe a few but nothing like a manifestation. He's long haired and it's very thick. I think the fleas give up trying to eat him thru all his fur. I don't bathe him often because he tries to kick my ass when I brush him out. Tat doesn't quite understand that if I brush him, I'll get those loose hairs off of him and he won't spend so much time hacking up dang furballs all over my porch, walkway, yard, driveway, etc. Tat just thinks of it as an opportunity to smack me around. Some gratitude!
When we moved into the new house I tried to keep him inside, at least for the first few days so he could get comfortable with our new area. That meant Tat had to take a bath. I didn't want dirty cat butt dragged all over my carpet. I was nervous. I think the last time I'd bathed him was about 5 years ago. And he fights brushing - no water involved - so I was REALLY nervous and I made sure Husband knew how to get to the hospital from our new location. I just knew I was going to need some stitches after Tat's bath.
After I worked out all the pre-bath fretting I filled up the bathtub. I scooped Tat up and we headed for the bathroom. He gave me a "Where do you think you're taking me?" look and I tried to explain how he's pretty dirty and I don't want him bringing dirt or possibly fleas into the new house. He just closed his eyes and looked away. And I put him in the water, expecting him to jump up onto my face and claw my eyes out but that didn't happen. He just sat there, all still and quiet and let me bathe him. LET ME. Then he spent a good 6 hours pouting and hiding under my bed.
Of course, the next day when I thought "Hey, let's put him in the back yard (it's fenced in) and see how he likes the ground." BAD MISTAKE! He squeezed his large ass thru the gap between the fence and the house and ran like hell. We didn't see him for almost two weeks. Every day I'd go outside shaking the food dish and yelling for him, "Fat boy! Here kitty kitty." He finally showed back up and was he ever skinny! I'd never seen him skinny, at all, EVER. He's well back to his non-fighting weight now.
Tat likes living on The Circle. He's got no nuts so he doesn't chase or kill much anymore. He's only brought me one set of mole hands since we've moved here. He used to leave me all kinds of lizards, birds and mice at the old farm. He doesn't even chase the birds who come eat at our eleventy feeders.
Good kitteh!
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