I’ve often read the complaint about blogs that too many are just people talking about what they ate for breakfast and their cats. I can understand this complaint having read many many bad blogs. And having written many Many MANY bad blog posts. So what am I going to do today? I’m going to write about what I had for breakfast and my cats.
I woke up last week at 10:30 PM and I had breakfast four hours later. I made myself a cheeseburger.
Now onto my cat. This is all about Peter. Peter is 14 years old, he is 14 pounds, he is white, gray, and fluffy. Very very fluffy! We think he is part Maine Coon cat.
I brought Peter home one day as a surprise for my wife back when you’ve just living together, before we were married. (yes, we were living in sin. Isn’t that horrible?) At the time we shared in an appartment with another couple. The female half of that couple was getting ready to move out and go to grad school. She took with her their two cats. Her two cats were the playmates of Wendy, the cat we already had. Now, I didn’t want Wendy to be all alone, so I brought home Peter. (Do you get it yet, the name, Wendy and and Peter? Huh, Huh, do you get it?) (On a sad tangent, we lost Wendy about two years ago. She went insane. Litterally. But that’s another story for another day.)
Well, Peter was the tiniest kitten I had ever seen. The people at the animal shelter said that he and his sisters had been abandoned in the attic of a vacant building. Apparently the mother had left them their, and sadly never came back. I can only guess that the mother came to a sad end.
Peter was so tiny, see was the size that his head is now. He was malnourished and very tiny. And very sad. So of course, he was the one I picked and brought home.
We loved him instantly, probably because he was so sad and tiny. Unfortunately, the roommate we were still living with, the male half of the other couple, he did not want another cat in the apartment. This led to a week long argument that ended with my wife and I moving out. But that’s a story for another time.
Anyway, with lots of love and lots of food Peter grew and grew and grew. No, he’s not quite Clifford the big red dog, but darn close. Peter became one of the greatest cats ever. Ever! His attitude is almost that of a dog. When our children came into the home, our other cats scampered away to hide. But Peter stood there and took all of their love/abuse that only infants and toddlers can give to a big fuzzy kitty
So, flash forward to today, or this month actually. Peter had been losing some weight. Also, he had been drinking lots and lots of water. So much water, that the clumping kitty litter could not handle it, and the cat box was becoming almost muddy. No, I shouldn’t say almost muddy, it WAS becoming muddy. Disgusting! And stinky.
After a quick Google search, we figured he had either kidney failure, liver failure, or diabetes. Well, a $400 vet visit later we learned that it was diabetes.
Diabetes is a treatable disease. Even for cat’s. With a change in diet, to very expensive specialty food that we can only get from the veterinarian, (must look online for cheaper alternatives) and with a daily insulin shot, Peter will be okay. In fact, after a week I’ve already noticed a lot less urine in the cat box.
So, that’s my story about my cat Peter. The doctors say he should be fine, at least for another two years, fingers crossed. Wish him luck!