Tag Archives: pets

say hi to your dog for me

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Lorelei had been driving around with the bumper sticker from WeRateDogs on the back of her car for the last two years. She wasn’t a dog owner but she was a fan of dogs. She would go to the parks and watch people walking their dogs. Wishing she had the room or time for one. Not right now. Not until she got her promotion and had more control over her time. Soon. Soon.

She pulled up to the light and sat there. She knew this light and that she was going to be there for a long time. At least it was a nice day. Bright and clear. There weren’t too many folks on the road.

With a rev of an enormous engine, a pick up truck pulled behind her. It then revved again and pulled up next to her. She heard the sonorous sound of the horn and glanced over.

The man sitting in the car next to her was white, bald and wearing wraparound sunglasses. He was smiling a wide smile. She didn’t know what to make of the man. She wondered if he was about to say something to her whether sexual or racist. He kept smiling though.

“Say hi to your dog for me?” he called. “How about you do it yourself.”

He lifted up his hand and Lorelei nearly died. He held a chihuahua in his hand that was small and black and brown. The eyes were bugging out. It was shaking in the hand of its owner. She couldn’t tell if he was scared or just shaking like most chihuahuas do.

“Oh my God, look at that sweet angel,” Lorelei cooed. “What’s their name?”

“Apple pie!” the man called back friendly.

The light finally turned green.

“You two have a wonderful day,” Lorelei called after him as the man lowered Apple Pie back to their seat.

He gave her a friendly wave and drove through the light. Lorelei continued with her day as well, feeling a little bit happier. A little bit brighter having seen such a beautiful little one. Such is the power of the dog.

Cat update

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I didn’t post all week. Let me explain that.

Before I’ve said that I really didn’t want this blog to be only about my cats, which is something that is going to be really hard. They are so cute. I love them so much.

Frequent readers of this blog, might say “But Frank, you’ve only ever talked about one cat, the wonderful Pierre. Who is this mysterious second cat?”

Well, his name is Rambler. He’s about five years old and as of last Friday, he’s a former feral. He’s been living in my bathroom for the last week and I’ve been doing what I did with Pierre, going in every morning and sitting with him for about an hour a day. We’ve moved from hissing at me every time I enter the room to just quietly hiding from me. Progress! I know it’s going to be a long road but I don’t really care. He’s mine and I’m not going to give him up. Here’s a picture of the little man.

Look at him! He ate his first Churu yesterday and I think that he could become a little buddy. I feel the same way that I did about Pierre the first time I saw him. That I immediately loved him. I’m going to start introducing their scent to each other over the next week. I think that he’ll feel better when he’s out of the bathroom and then hopefully he’ll see how Pierre and I interact and he would be more trusting of me. They do know each other, they were friends when they were both ferals. My landlord told me when he was trying to trap them that they would spend their time playing instead of going into the trap.

As for Pierre, he has become a nut over the last few months. He is super cuddly and will hang out with me whenever I’m on the bed. He is so high energy that I’m thinking about buying a cat wheel. Yesterday he knocked over one of my TV trays by wall-running across the front of the couch. We seemed to bond over every blizzard. He would become cuddlier and sweeter. I love him so much. I think that he’ll be excited to have a playmate. I hope that Rambler can keep up and won’t be aggressive towards him.

Here’s the most recent pic of Pierre when I was watching Weapons.

Update on Pierre

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Look at that beautiful boy! So, we’re closing in on me having owned Pierre for three months, which is the tail end of the 3-3-3 method. For those that don’t know it’s:

3 Days to decompress

3 Weeks to learn the routine and settle in

3 Months to feel fully comfortable, bonded and secure

Him being a formal feral, it made me worried that he would never get to know me. We would just be roommates forever and you know that would have been fine. I would keep him safe and he would just be the cat that lived in my house, not a pet. But things have changed since the last time I talked about him.

He’s started hanging out in my room with me. He started rubbing up against my legs when I walked through the house. Because he was willing to touch me, I started reaching down and giving him a pet here and there. He would often zip away from me. But then he started zipping less distance each time. Finally, on Saturday, I gave him a pet and he didn’t move. I pressed my luck and he let me pet him fully. Now, if he’s in the mood, I can pet him and give him scratches. I go by the way he reacts. I don’t force him to be pet. It’s all about consent between the two of us. Such as all things should be.

However, if I sit down somewhere, he won’t let me pet him. I have to be bent at the waist to do so. He also won’t accept churus from me. All in good time.

I love him so much. Not because he lets me pet him just because he exists. He’s sitting near my bed as I write this and I love him so much. My good squeaky boy.

Update on the little man

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It’s been hard to not make this blog solely about this little man. I’m obsessed with him and he’s just kind of middling on me. There are updates.

The main thing that I knew about former feral cats is that you have to take your time with them. I’ve been doing so, every morning, I spend an hour just quietly being in his presence while he sits in his cat tree. I got some churus and put them on a plate to draw him closer to me. I don’t reach out yet because I’m sure that would freak him out. But he is now willing to eat the churu in front of me within inches of me.

I took him to the vet on Monday and I can’t be sure if I told them that he was a feral but I do remember asking for Gabapentin. I had prepared myself for getting him into the carrier by putting on safety goggles, gloves, a hooded sweatshirt and a scarf over my mouth. Turns out I didn’t need all of that as after not feeding him for an extra three hours, he was desperate to get at his food, which was in the carrier. I snuck up on him and closed the door.

I brought him to the vet, he got taken back and I was brought to see him after five minutes. Turns out he was buck wild in the room, running around, hissing and being scared. The vet though was a champ and offered me a later appointment that day where they would sedate him so they could examine him. Turns out he’s in perfect health with good teeth, clean ears, good weight, clean coat, no flea dirt, clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose.

That brings me to the other thing that’s happened, in which on Thanksgiving, I came home to find out that he had vomited worms on the carpet. It was gross but beneficial that I was able to tell something was wrong. He has to take a powder in his food for the next few days to clear them. This is the benefit of having a cat that lived in the trash. He will eat anything that I put in front of him. He’s two doses down and hopefully he’ll start shitting worms.

I’ve also bought him a pheromone diffuser and that’s calmed him some, so that feels good.

In conclusion, I think that he has the makings of being a snuggle bunny. I think that the main thing is to have patience and give him time. I revel in the little victories like yesterday where unprompted he hopped on the couch with me. He didn’t stay long but it was still more than he had done in the last thirty days. I love him so much and even if we end up being roommates and not best buds, I’ll love him anyway. He’s my little man and nothing will change that.

Let me introduce him to you all

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It’s been a big weekend. Besides everything Halloween, my book coming out and everything. I also got a cat.

His name is Monsieur Alphonse Pierre LeChat though I have called him “Snuggles”, “my little handsome man”, “Quesadilla”, “Waffles”, “Pretty boy” and a number of other things since I’ve gotten him last Thursday. I have no idea how old he is.

I knew that I wanted to get cats, in fact it was one of the biggest reasons I moved out on my own. I noticed that people were putting out food for these cats. I had thought about going to the pound and getting other cats but charity begins at home people say in a way to avoid doing charity. I couldn’t stand the idea of seeing cold cats outside so I chose to ask my landlord about them.

He’s younger than the other one named Rambler. He came to me having been neutered and thus super high. He spent the first day in his cage in the bathroom. I gave him food and checked up on him. I opened the door that first night and he had emerged from the bathroom to sit on the window sill. When I saw him, he fled into the closet. Never while I was looking. I’ve barely seen him move. He’s basically a Weeping Angel from Doctor Who.

Obviously I haven’t touched him. I get near and he backs away and that’s more distressing than most things out there. I know that I have to give him time and let him come to me.

Still, it’s going better than I thought it would. I thought that he was going to go nuts and destroy my apartment. I thought that he was going to try and get out at every opportunity. Instead, he’s just kind of hidden away and watched. He also hasn’t made any noise, which I think is part of his stray heritage. Why would he need to make noise? I hope that he does start making noises. I hope he has a cute little meow.

No matter what and from the moment I saw I loved him. I’m looking forward to meeting Rambler and having the two of them run around my house. To finish, here’s a bunch more pics of him.