People?
If you have not read the post I put up earlier today about this week’s Featured Bloggers?
Go do that!
They are awesome and magical and Christmassy!
Back here . . .
Mark and I no longer have any cats.
Mark and I have a long and very bad history with cats.
Today, a story of one of those cats.
Reggie.
Many many years ago . . .
Reggie showed up outside of our apartment door one day, not quite a kitten and not quite a cat. I shooed him away, but he would not be shooed. I carried him around the apartment complex to see if he belonged to anyone. He did not.
I carried him back to our apartment. Put him down.
Shooed him away.
He did not shoo.
So I brought him in and fed him and gave him some water.
Mark was not at all pleased that I had “found” a cat while he had been off at work. He didn’t believe for a minute that this cat had showed up at our door and mewed for me to come save it. We already had a cat and Mark hadn’t even wanted that first cat.
Mark was suspicious.
But I was all beggy and in love with this new cat and really . . . how much work could a second cat be?
Mark gave in . . . and so then we had Reggie
Reggie was awesome and gorgeous and playful and pretty much a perfect cat.
Everything was fabulous for about a week.
And then I was in the bedroom folding some laundry. Our first cat jumped up onto the bed and settled into the pillows to watch me. Reggie leaped up to see what was going on. It was hot and the heat of the just dried clothing was stifling, so I turned on the floor fan that stood several feet from the bottom of our bed.
As the fan got up to speed and starting circulating the room’s air?
Something about the spinning blades caught Reggie’s eye.
Insanity gleamed in his eyes for an instant, and then he threw himself across the room and into the fan. Not like a leap with any intention or purpose or thought behind it . . . he just threw himself into the fan.
And then crashed spectacularly to the floor in a yowling tragic clumsy pile.
He broke his right rear leg in two places.
Really.
Surgery. Pins screwed into his bones to hold them in place. A long metal shaft that ran the length of his upper leg and held the pins in place. Pain medications. Antibiotics. Wound care.
Really.
So we are one week into ownership of this cat, and now we have many hundreds of dollars in vet bills. Because the cat jumped into a fan. For no good reason.
Mark was not happy.
Sigh.
Plus? The vet tells me that we must keep this cat subdued for several weeks or the bone will not heal properly.
Have you ever tried to keep a cat subdued when it is not inclined to be subdued?
Yeah.
I hit on the solution of making it a temporary cat-rehab in our walk-in closet. Whenever we could not be home to supervise Reggie, we would just lock him in the closet with all of his supplies and toys. I was all geniusy!
Reggie the cat did not think too much of this plan, and he started trying to EAT HIS WAY OUT OF THE CLOSET.
Not in a, “I am a frustrated kitty cat and I will put some teeth marks in this door frame because I am annoyed,” sort of way.
No . . . REGGIE TRIED TO EAT HIS WAY OUT OF THE CLOSET.
Like he was being held captive by serial killers and the only route to possible survival was through the fucking door.
Reggie chewed through the door frame at the point it met the hinge. He ate part of the door. Every time I returned home, I would have to clean up a small pile of splintered cat-spitty wood. Pull small thorns of painted door frame from his lips and tongue.
Really.
And just to be clear? Reggie was only locked in this closet when neither Mark nor I was available to supervise him. And there was a light in the closet. And food and water and toys and a litter box.
Reggie was not on board with the closet.
We covered the spots he was eating with duct tape. He ate the duct tape.
We blocked the area he was eating. He shoved the blockades out of the way and ate more door.
Fuck it.
We let him eat the door and the frame.
Eventually, Reggie recovered.
We moved out of that apartment.
The house into which we moved had a long hallway that ran the length of the house.
Not long after Mark and I moved into this house, we lay in bed and listened to Reggie.
He was racing the length of the hallway at top speed and then smashing himself into the wall. He would lay there stunned for a moment. And then he would get up and turn around and run the length of the hallway to the other end of the house. And smash himself head first into the wall.
Over and over again.
Run run run run run . . . . THUD!
Quiet.
Run run run run run . . . THUD!
Mark turned to me in the dark, “We own the dumbest most self-destructive cat in the entire world.”
Yes.
We did.
For several more years.
And many more hundreds of dollars in vet bills.
Really.
Maybe I need to put Nimbus in rehab.
Topaz’s life would be perfect if we’d just never got Nimbus. She puts him slightly below tapeworm on the desirable things list.
But he never ate a door.
He did, however, stab a vet with her own hypodermic needle.
Huh. Now that I think about it, clearly he DOES need rehab.
He was clearly after the sharps.
No mamby pamby needle exchange for him.
Just kill the fucking vet.
Never saw it that way till now.
We have a cat who once tried to kill the vet. He’s our now senile cat. It was awesome. He was sitting on the counter looking all super sweet and innocent, the vet walks in and says, “Oh look! How sweet!” Leans over to pet him and he lunged at her face. Scared the shit out of that poor vet. She told us not to bring him back unless he’s dying.
We also had a cat that tried to kill the vet!
Although I didn’t get to actually see that part.
But when I came back to pick this cat up at the vet’s?
He was waaaay in the back of the facility in a small metal cage. A large sign on the front of the cage said, “Vicious Cat.”
Snort!
I can just see it…
the small cage and the large sign.
That is too funny.
Also, this is on my list of reasons why I don’t own a cat.
Ironically?
We eventually had to get rid of that cat because he really did get vicious.
But at the time of the vet visit?
He was only vicious with vets . . . and lovely with us.
Sigh.
My sister used to work at a vet’s office and the labels they would put on animal charts were so hilarious. My favorite one was for a small dog that had a “Faints while getting nails trimmed” note on the outside. Vicious is pretty good though.
Oh, I love that they wrote out individual signs to denote pets’ neuroses!
Faints while getting nails trimmed?
That’s awesome.
And I thought I have insane cats. One growls at furniture because he’s senile and thinks the furniture is coming after him. The other drinks Christmas tree water and vomits it up, but drinks it anyway. That cat is also allergic to fish. Who has a CAT that is allergic to fish? Seriously. He vomits uncontroably whenever he gets anything with fish in it. It’s not awesome. At all.
Mark and I have owned several cats . . .
Edison
Reggie
Winston
Molly
Marzen
Not a single success story in there.
Nothing but insanity.
Seriously.
Holy crap did I need to hear the Reggie story. It’s not a very happy place in this house right at the moment. The fact that I’m seriously annoyed and pissed off and feeling all sorts of mentally injured right now and you STILL forced a chuckle from me?
Pure comic gold my friend…pure comic gold.
Remind me to tell you about the stupidest dog that ever lived. Heh…actually I think I have owned the top two dumbest dogs ever. Anyway…remind me. THOSE are stories.
My dogs are entertaining and stupid and occasionally badly behaved.
And often hilarious.
But my cats?
Have all been insane.
What’s up with that?
And tell me these dog stories! I want to hear!
Yeah, I can see why Reggie might have put you off of cats. For good.
But, you’ve left out an important detail in this story…how the hell did he get the name Reggie?
Sadly?
Reggie did not put us off cats.
We had a hideous cat (or two) up until just a few years ago.
All insane.
How did Reggie get his name?
Hold on . . . let me see if Mark remembers.
It was a very long time ago.
Ummmm . . .
Mark says I chose that name.
I have no memory of how or why I chose the name Reggie.
At all.
What year was it?
Because I’m thinking that Reggie sounds like an 80s porn star name.
Giggle.
Smart-ass!
Let’s see . . . I was 22 years old.
So that would be 1988.
Was there an awesome porn star named Reggie?
I prefer to think that that the cat was named after Reggie Jackson, the baseball player.
Yeah, I’m sure that was it.
Ahem.
I’m fairly certain that there’s always a porn star named Reggie.
My cat was not named after a porn star!
I so would have remembered that.
Right?
As a cat lover I will attest to the fact that cats may be the dumbest creatures ever. Which can be really funny.
Or not.
Depending on the vet bills.
But still? I love them. Even Harry who loves to be petted but hates being picked up. So he sits just out of range of my hand, rolls on the floor, looks up as if to say “Please rub my head or tummy,” and when I move a little closer to do so? Runs and hides under the furniture.
Just lucky he is so pretty. Did I mention I think he’s gay? In a fixed sort of way? Yeah. Another story.
Our cats?
Have all been certifiable.
Including the cat who once, when the girls were very small?
Got coal in his Christmas stocking and a severe letter of reprimand from Santa for biting and scratching a friend of the girls.
The cat chose not to heed Santa’s wise words.
That was the beginning of the end for that cat.
Yeah we had one of those.
The vet’s wife said “she is not a nice cat “. But she’d spoon with me every night. So she got away with a lot.
This particular cat?
Really did go sort of crazy in the end.
He attacked anyone who tried to touch him.
Vicious attacks.
So then he had to live in the garage, where he lurked and scared the shit out of people for a while.
And then he died.
Sigh.
Did you put signs out “Beware of Attack Cat”????
Since I moved the desert? I’m lucky if they live 8 years. Maybe it’s the water. Though Monster Kitty (otherwise known as Max) is somewhere around 11 now. He is almost normal :)
Though he does come when called.
I did not.
I just locked the door and tried to never have people go in there.
People don’t always listen.
And some people thought I was being ridiculous to lock the cat in the garage.
The cat proved them wrong.
Every time.
That part was actually pretty awesome.
OHMYGAWD!!!
I had his twin!! A little reddish blonde cat who was ditzy as Chrissy Snow (Three’s Company) and had the nasty ability to hurt himself. When I got him I lived in a teeny 1 bedroom that was 2 floored – he used to run around my teeny bedroom, down the steps, along the couch and throw himself into the closed door. After the first time he threw himself into the screen and crashed it open only to fall down the outside 15 stairs to the ground floor I got smart and kept the door locked.
Then there was the time he ran through the screen in the window and got onto the roof…
Man, I miss that cat. He used to jump up on chairs and then fall off – onto his head of course!! but he was a happy cat.
Happy with a death wish I think.
I’d say he lived a good long, healthy life but we were well known at the vets’s office.
M
Several years after we got Reggie, we got a Dalmatian puppy.
Reggie followed that puppy around the house all day long, trying to fuck the puppy.
All . . . day. . . long.
And yes, Reggie was neutered.
And he was still crashing about the house and injuring himself.
And he had various ongoing medical issues.
And he would not stop fucking the puppy.
So Reggie went to a new home.
I did not explain ALL of Reggie’s history to the nice woman who showed up at the door to take Reggie away.
Ahem.
I’m sure it all worked out.
Shut up.
My cat Louis is almost 17. He eats pine needles, vomits them, and then, well, repeat. He pee-ed on cort’s computer because he had a beef with cort. He…oh the stories of Louis are never-ending.
But besides all that? He is cuddley and cute and sassy.
I love him.
I think cats and their dumbness are just awesome.
Seriously . . .
You would not have loved our cats.
I promise.
Did you see my tweets the other day about the cat we had that turned into a snot factory?
You would not have loved that cat.
Not even.
Ok…no…I did not…BUT, my friend’s cat…Oh dear lord…I am laughing just typing this.
Ok. So we went to visit our friends who lived near Rochester, NY. They have a cat named Elvis.
Elvis has allergies.
Elvis had an allergy attack while we were eating dinner.
I have NEVER seen so much sneezing and snot spewing.
I was laughing so hard water was drooling out of my nose AND mouth and I couldn’t take care of it because I was crying.
It was the funniest thing ever.
But? It was not my cat-spewing cat.
Yes . . . we had a cat who developed weird sinus issues that the vet was unable to resolve.
Our whole fucking house was covered in mucus.
The cat sneezed all the time, and every time he sneezed? Huge voluminous amounts of snot and slime and disgustingness.
It was horrible.
And not at all funny.
Because he was our cat.
Ugh.
That said?
Our friends laughed all the fucking time.
They so did.
Sigh.
I have three cats right now. I have never had a dumb cat. They are all plotting to take over the world.
I’ve always been owned by cats. There’s nothing like the look of pure love they give once they trust you. And yes, I know that’s crap. They know who feeds them.
Although? My 14 year old bitchy kitty attempted to kill the dog the other day when he growled at me.
Yeah, she knows who feeds her.
You have all the smart cats!
Way more than your fair share.
Just as I have had more than my fair share of crazy cats.
Geez.
Dummy. You should have let him get hit by a car. Not killed, but hit. Worked 4 me.
E.B.White (who, of course, was jet black) drove away Fenimore Cooper (hmm. a naming convention is emerging here), our fav, and was not on our list of Preferred Animals.
Until Halloween (remember, black cat) when she didn’t come home for several days. When she did? Eye hanging out of socket. Yuckypoo. Hundreds of dollars in vet bills, couldn’t save the eye.
Miraculous cranial-sacral realignment or something about her chakras evidently happened in the crash. Became the most loveable cat ever, slept right next to me every night for 12 years. Inconsolable for a day or so after we had to put her to sleep @ 18.
I cannot just be throwing uncooperative cats into traffic in hopes that they will come out of the experience a kinder and gentler feline.
Although I am glad it worked for you.
I am not even going to discuss the one-eyed thing.
I am all creeped out.
Don’t get creeped out. It was cool: we could put a different marble in the socket every day instead of her eye. And sometimes? Put a jawbreaker in there just in case I got hungry for candy while I was in bed.
No, you so fucking did not.
I was just going to offer you a jawbreaker, but if you have such an attitude, no way.
ICK!
I am so down with this letting my cat get hit (but not killed) by a car.
Maybe she’ll stop being such an evil jerk and be a sweet, cuddly cat!
It happened to a second one, but even though she calmed down, she still scratches the antiques & goes nutzoid @ 5 AM when she wants to get fed, so the technique isn’t foolproof. Nonetheless, appears pretty effective. I don’t know what Miss Prissy’s hang-up is about it, being as it’s well known she picks wings off bugs, and once burned an ant hill (oh, the latter was a bit of transference of guilt on my part.).
She’s calmed down tremendously since she was a psycho kitten. Now she enjoys a good “meow” at the top of her lungs at 3 am or clawing up the carpet outside my bedroom door.
Yes. A little tap from a vehicle might do her some good.
Stop that!
No throwing cats in traffic!
David -
Are you saying that you had TWO cats hit by cars?
What the fuck, you?
I am suspicious.
OK, I am not taking the fall for this.
If there is an outbreak of cats being thrown into traffic to improve their dispositions?
Mr. W. David Stephenson is in big trouble.
I was merely an interested bystander — who paid through the nose for the repairs. I think putting them in analysis might have been cheaper, in retrospect. PS, lady: I’m not responsible for my actions.
Duly noted.
OK, you’re back in my good graces. I’m sending you a jawbreaker! Isn’t that sweet of me?
Just to orient you: the cats who head south get hit by cars (2 of them) (secondary state highway) The cats who head north get eaten (2 of them) by either fishers (man, are they nasty! Have them in Oregon, or just beavers?) or foxes because of the nature preserve right behind us. I’ve offered to flip a coin to help the cats decide which will be their fate.
All things considered, being hit by a car seems a far better choice. But then I know that’s a pretty human-centric attitude.
No thank you to the jawbreaker.
Ick.
As for the rest of your comment?
Ack!
I once had a dog who ate her way through several pieces of lawn furniture, several shelves of books (that was the only time I considered killing an animal with my bare hands-but I was restrained and eventually forgave her).
She also had a gift for running away. My parents added five feet of lattice work to the top of the chain link fence (yeah-our neighbors loved that look!) to keep her from jumping out…that was the same week we took her to the vet to get fixed. She had stitches and still she jumped over the fence with the five feet lattice work extension. Burst her stitches. Crazy dog.
My dogs are nuts.
But not psycho (most of the time).
Our cats were psycho.
That is a truly dumb cat. Are you sure it wasn’t a dog?
I can’t be positive.
But he sure looked like a cat.
Snort!
So very not into cats.
Every since my college boyfriend and I were driving, with his dang unfriendly, unsociable cat in the back seat, and out of nowhere without a warning sound jumps and attacks the both of us in the front seat.
On the freeway.
Almost got killed over a dang cat I couldn’t stand to begin with.
So not into cats.
I have never been almost killed by a cat in a car.
But I did one time think I had killed a cat in a car.
Stupid cat freaked me all the fuck out.
He was fine.
Cats are always fine.
They just like to fuck with you.
So, not named after a porn star, darn.
All of our cats did what my mom called “the emergency sharpening of the non existent claws” including the mad dash across the house.My current cats unfortunately have their claws and do this.And yes, I have a cat that will throw himself against a closed door, if I’m behind it. He weighs over 20 pounds so I’m more worried about the door than the cat. He’s also a really bad bulimic.
I keep meaning to write a cat story and include video of my little pyscho demon. He chases his own tail.And gets really nasty about it.Will sit and growl at himself, twitch his tail and growl more.CERTIFIABLE!
See, people?
Cats are nuts.
Most of the time.
They just are.
“Over and over again.
Run run run run run . . . . THUD!
Quiet.
Run run run run run . . . THUD!”
Wait a minute…this sounds a lot like me and life.
Run run run run run . . . THUD into life’s wall
and repeat.
Yes.
Sigh.
Me too.
My mother’s cat used to run full speed into walls all the time too. It turns out he has epilepsy and was having seizures! Now they pay crazy money for Oliver’s anti-seizure meds every month.
We thought about that!
Expensive testing.
The vet said no . . . Reggie was just weird.
Yay.